Strange Asylum
by Identity-Unknown
Summary: Alice Kingsley has finally left home for her own good. Alone, homeless and suffering, she seeks refuge wherever she can - until one stormy night, she finds asylum in the strangest and most wonderful of places. Alice K./Hatter
1. Chapter 1

**Strange Asylum**

**Author: Identity-Unknown**

**A/N:** Hi, and thanks muchly for checking out the fic! I wanted to say, the story is slightly A/U in the way that Alice is from modern times, and not quite as formal as she was in the past. She may have a few different qualities, but she is Alice's exact reincarnation, I like to think. The story is mainly set in Underland after the first chapter, and Alice will start to recall a lot of things from here on out. I do want to warn readers that there _is_ a reason Alice left home, and it will be - kind-of ? - revealed soon. It may be a bit uncomfortable for some readers, so beware - and it definitely _does_ have something to do with her current anxiety, depression, and fear. I think she and the Hatter will have some things more in common this time around. Should be lots of interesting developments! Thanks for reading.

**Chapter One: The Bad, Mad, and Sad Reality**

The late afternoon sky was slate gray and making a very threatening noise as eighteen-year-old Alice Kingsley left the underground parking garage beneath the Freedom Grove public library.

Slipping her cheap black sunglasses from atop her loose, messy blonde curls, she lowered them over her sensitive blue eyes and squinted into the overcast fall daylight.

Alice tried to breathe deep and push away the anxiety squeezing her chest. She couldn't tell herself truthfully that everything was going to be okay, and that was terrifying. She couldn't even lie to herself anymore!

Alice groaned quietly and adjusted the heavy, ratty black backpack resting over one shoulder as she took a lingering glance back into the dimly lit garage. It was so tempting to think that she could just go and hide behind a car - a dusty one that obviously hadn't been moved in a while - or sit behind one of the big concrete pillars and rest, un-bothered, and unseen, until both the night and the rain had moved on. But she knew it was impossible. The garage was always lit, yes, but she knew better than most that light didn't always keep you safe.

Thunder cracked overhead and she swallowed, once again pushing panic aside. She'd been alone, homeless for a little over a week now, and she'd thought she'd become used to it eventually, but she hadn't. Fear of the unknown was almost worse than anything else - even what she had left behind at home...

Wanting to cry at the constant feeling of hopelessness she now carried with her, Alice allowed her face to crumple for just a moment before she took in another shuddering breath and continued walking down the ramp to the the crosswalk at the corner. As she passed out of the shelter of the corner of the three-story brick building, the chill wind gusted into her, slicing through the thin, blue-gray denim jacket and dingy white hoodie and gray Ramones t-shirt she wore.

Alice bit the inside of her cheek and reached out to push the button for the crosswalk. As usual, it took an insane amount of time to switch, and when it finally did, she only had a good five seconds to rush across the busy downtown street.

Once across the street, she headed east down a sloping sidewalk a few blocks until she came to the Eastland shopping center. It was really just a huge, old, crumbling, asphalt parking lot that had a line of about six stores in the back of it. Most of the stores were long-since abandoned, but a place called Grocer's Lots, which sold heavily discounted, near-to-out-of-date foods, a small, window-barred family pharmacy, and a tiny, seedy thrift store called "Rags to Riches", still persisted.

The empty lot behind the grocer's held a couple of big green dumpsters among the grass and leaf-filled asphalt, and after taking a cautious look around, Alice approached them, already holding her breath against the creeping odor of spoiled meat that assaulted her nose from the first dumpster.

At the second, thankfully several feet from the other, she was relieved to find the same stack of cardboard boxes she'd used to crash on the night before stashed where she'd left them behind the dumpster and against the concrete wall of the building. Shrugging off her backpack, Alice pulled the boxes out and stacked several, open and flat, on the ground against the building. The largest, just big enough for her to sit-up in, she opened up and set on top of the others. Another thunder-crack reminded her to hurry if she wanted to stay dry, and she fumbled with the zipper on her pack before scrambling through it to find the balled up plastic rain poncho shoved to the bottom.

Moving quickly as she felt the first drops of a heavy rain, Alice spread the clear plastic over the top of the cardboard and covered it as thoroughly as she could. The cheap poncho she'd taken from her father's glove-box before she'd left wasn't ideal, or completely leak-proof, but it was the best she could do at the moment.

Settling in cross-legged, Alice relaxed a little and watched the rain start to pour down outside her tiny shelter.

Usually, she didn't come here quite this early, but she'd had little choice today. A little later, sometimes, if she was lucky, there would be a few battered banana boxes stacked next to the full dumpster with a scattering of equally battered bananas, or tomatoes, wrinkled apples, and other dubious-looking food items.

There was nothing to be found today, though, and she slumped a little, bringing up a small hand to pull off her sunglasses and rub her tired eyes.

"It doesn't matter," she told herself, letting her head rest against the cardboard that leaned against the building behind her. "I'm more sleepy than hungry, anyway," and for once it was true.

Saying a little prayer that she would be kept safe, Alice closed her eyes. She drew her knees, bare in their ripped jeans, up to her chest, and slowly drifted off to sleep, to the the sound of wind shaking the trees across the lot, and the rain battering the fragile box around her.

Sometime later, Alice was very rudely awakened by the wind and icy rain pelting her right in her face.

Gasping at the cold, Alice stumbled to her feet, grabbing her backpack, and flung her head around, instantly awake.

It was dark out, now, but from the light of a cracked parking lot lamp nearby she could see through the rain that her box had been blown away, some distance actually, and now laying a crumpled mass at the base of another dumpster. The plastic poncho was nowhere to be seen.

Angry and frustrated, Alice spat a word she'd only ever heard from her father, and hefted her pack. She sprinted down the parking lot, trying to think of another place to shelter, shivering as she became soaked to the bone in no-time.

She was licking rain off her lips when a glint of light caught her attention - she was passing the old thrift store, now, and the back entrance was lit by a small, industrial-caged bulb. She was about to pass on when she noticed another light, brighter this time, and paused.

The short door to the rear entrance was open the tiniest crack.

Alice licked her lips again, and looked around nervously, shoving a swathe of heavy, thick wet hair out of her eyes. She took a few steps to the small, rusted steel door, and hesitantly gripped the handle. It shifted in her hands, making a loud clanking noise, and she dropped it - but the door still swung open, and the dim light inside spilled out onto her.

Alice swallowed, and stared inside until a bone-shuddering chill crawled up her spine. Freezing, and wet, she apprehensively sidled into through the little door, having to duck, and experiencing the most dizzying sense of deja-vu she'd ever felt.

Nervous and unsettled, Alice left the door open behind her, just in case she was stumbling into some kind of burglary or something, and needed to make a quick getaway.

Alice cleared her throat, making noise to get attention of anyone who might be there, but after a thorough look around the small storeroom, she still didn't see anyone. The bright light was coming from the open door of a tiny white-tiled bathroom, and the bare bulb hanging inside. She moved to another door, taller this time, and opened it carefully.

The door creaked on it's hinges as she pushed it outward, and she wrinkled her nose as she caught scent of the dusty, musty smelling contents of the store inside.

The store she stepped into was mostly darkened, save for the lights that shone in the two front display windows on either side of the barred glass door.

Blinking to adjust her eyes, Alice crept further in, shifting her shoulders restlessly inside their cold, wet casing. The rain drops on the front glass glistened blindingly in headlights, and a car with loud music drove by outside, and then disappeared.

Alice looked around slowly, her uneven breath and the rain pounding on the roof the only sounds around her, now.

The store was small, and narrow, but there was a maze of shelves and racks laid out before her. It took her a few minutes to squeeze through the crowded shop, but only after she was sure it was empty of anyone save her, did she make her way back to the rear exit and lock it.

Shaking from cold and exposure, Alice made use of the bathroom, and ran hot water over her hands and splashed her blue-tinged face. Since her pack was as soaked as she was, there wasn't any point in changing clothes, so she wandered back out into the shop proper, using a few harsh brown paper towels to try to dry off as she looked around, expression bemused.

The owner must have forgotten to lock the door behind him - or her - but Alice was thankful for the mistake.

As Alice wandered around, peeking and poking, here and there, she tried to forget her discomfort, but it was difficult. There were racks and racks of second-hand clothing, but she felt guilty at the tempting thought of putting on something dry that did not belong to her. She was already doing something wrong being here in the first place, she didn't need to add being a thief to the mix.

Curiosity, though, eventually got the better of her. She didn't try the clothes on, but she did find a dusty, finger-print marked mirror in a back corner of the store in which she held up several vintage dresses to herself. Putting the hangers back onto their rack, Alice sighed and was examining her woeful expression and the sad twist of her pale lips in the mirror, when she finally took note of the mirror itself. It had been half-covered by a maroon velveteen throw when she'd first spotted it, and she'd choked on the dust when she'd pulled it the rest of the way off of the dark, wood framed glass.

It obviously hadn't been touched in a very long time, like much of the rest of the shop.

"_Sad," _Alice thought, reaching out to touch the elegant curve of a carved rose. The mirror

was covered in them, full-blown roses, with impossibly intricate, basket-like hearts tucked into the four corners of the four-foot tall frame.

The instant Alice touched the smooth, time-worn wood, something moved in the ancient, spotted silver glass. Jerking back, surprised and scared, Alice gasped in fear, and couldn't believe what she was seeing when the glass rippled like water.

Almost falling in her haste to get back, Alice tripped over the clawed foot of curio cabinet behind her, and succeeded in putting her hand right through the curved display glass covering it.

Gasping again, this time a hiss of pain, she righted herself and pulled her left hand and forearm back out of the cabinet. Curling the sliced and bloodied limb protectively against her chest, she gave a frustrated sob, and took an automatic step back from the thing that had caused her so much pain.

Feeling a sickening pulse of blood run down her arm, blood that was hot against the cold damp of her pale skin, Alice bit her lip and tried to decide if she dared to look at the damage. What would she do? What _could_ she do?

"Oh, why _me_?" Alice whispered out loud, groaning.

Unthinking, Alice clutched at the sticky, wounded arm, and went to lean back against the wall behind - but she'd become disoriented, and instead leaned directly into the weird mirror that had disturbed her in the first place. She tried to turn, to catch herself as felt herself falling, but it was too late. Being 5'6, and the mirror only four, she bumped the back of her head on the top of the heavy frame as she passed _- inexplicably, right through the glass!_

The pain in her skull was so intense she blacked-out - something she'd never done before in her life - but she still felt the sensation of dropping impossibly far as she lost consciousness.

**To be continued**


	2. Chapter 2

**Strange Asylum**

**Chapter Two: Left in Stitches**

A/N: Slightly dark chapter ahead, just BTW. But Alice does finally meet up with Tarrant! _Thanks for stopping by, and also many thanks for the very first review, _**darkxxstar**!

Alice threw up the second she came around and managed to open her eyes. The merest glint of dawn's gray light stabbed her her brain, and she heaved pitifully - until her head went under water, and she panicked, choking.

Flailing, and slipping, Alice finally got a foothold, and managed to stand - or rather, slump. Coughing, nose and throat burning, she bent over to lean on her upper thighs until she got control of herself. Once she caught her breath, she became aware of a hideous thumping in her head. Swallowing against another wave of nausea, she took deep breaths until it subsided slightly.

Alice opened her eyes a bare slit, not because she wanted to, but because she had to find out just where the hell she was - and then she frowned, noting that she stood in what looked like a giant pond. It wasn't deep, but it certainly was odd looking. The water had movement; it looked like a small current was running against her, and it had a disgusting red tint to it. Something bumped against her shin, and Alice jerked, sending her head into a new level of agony. She almost fell over, because there was some kind of sludge sliding around her feet in the bottom of the pond.

Trembling, her nerves already shot, she looked down to see what had knocked into her - and squinted at the funny, ivory-colored round thing that was continually bumping against her in the current. What the heck was that? She blinked, leaned down a bit for a closer look - and abruptly screamed, and began to scrabble through the slippery mess to get anywhere, anywhere at all, just as long as it was out. of. that. water!

"Oh, God!" Alice panted as she clambered out of the disgusting liquid onto a grassy, stone-cluttered bank. _"Oh, my freaky God!" _

Alice hid her throbbing head in her hands as she tried to resist looking back at the water - or whatever it was - but some macabre fascination made her slowly turn her head, and she immediately began throwing up again, feeling an extreme anxiety attack creeping up on her.

Skulls! _The entire surface of the water was dotted with floating skulls!_

"_Hush, stupid girl, or you really will wake the dead," _snapped a deep, snobby, overbearing voice from somewhere near her ear, and Alice made the huge mistake of popping her head to the side to see who was there, and a blinding pain made her see a blot of bright indigo in a blaze of white. Then, mercifully, there was dark and silence again.

"- something isn't right, no, not right at all, not right, not right, she's _not waking up_! Why isn't she? _Why isn't she?" _an unfamiliar voice exploded into the air above her head, and Alice sluggishly came awake, but made certain to keep her eyes shut. She wasn't sure if she _could_ open them now, anyway.

"The dim-witted chit most likely has a concussion, Hatter, I'm sure I told you this many hundreds of times already," replied the same dry, snobbish voice Alice had heard before. "Or do you recall the great bloody bump on the back of her head at all?"

A low growl came in retort, but Alice had to wonder if it had even come from the same person, it sounded so different.

"'Course I do, m'mad, not _stupid_, you bluidy floatin' _cackle roach_!" a voice with a decidedly scots accent roared back across the air.

_Cackle roach? _Alice silently repeated, bewildered. Surely he meant cock roach, right? Oh, her brain hurt...

"Please," she gave up, and moaned, feeling pitiful, "stop yelling. My brains are going to dribble out my ears...!"

"Oh, dear," came the first voice again, quietly lisping. "It's ever so much worse than we thought!"

"Don't worry, Hatter," drawled the snob, "one must first be in possession of a brain for it to dribble out one's ears."

Alice's mouth fell open in offense, and she tried to sit up way too fast. If there'd been anything left in her tortured stomach, she would have lost it, but luckily for the arms that reached out to grab her and hold her steady, she didn't.

Moaning again, and rolling her head around on her shoulders, Alice opened her eyes, and gave an almighty start.

The incredibly pale face that was so close to hers backed off, and great day-glow green eyes surrounded by frosty white lashes blinked at her anxiously.

"Alice? Don't be frightened...how you do smell?"

Alice, in spite of herself, snorted. _"W-what?"_

"I believe he meant to ask how you felt," said the snob, "though even you must confess to reeking more than just a bit."

"_Absolem!"_

"_Bug off, _butt-head!" Alice snapped at the cruel voice, and the owner of the glowing eyes in front of her cackled.

She tried to focus her eyes on his, but it seemed impossible, mostly since his were still a glaring neon green, and seemed totally out of focus themselves. After the third time of her right eye trying to follow the apparent drifting of his left, her eyes began to sting and water, and she closed them, trying to shake the bizarre feeling off.

"Oh, I don't feel right," Alice sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers.

The Hatter, as the snob had addressed him, leaned forward and gave her a concerned tut.

"What is it?" he rasped gently. "Have you gone sideways?"

Alice found herself trying to scowl and smile at the same time, and she gave herself a shake. "I don't know - maybe," she admitted with a small, helpless laugh, and a smile despite herself. She was discovering it was hard to even look at the man without the corners of her lips curling upwards. It was like he was bottled, concentrated hilarity, or something.

He looked a lot like a clown, but not. He was colorful, but also somehow washed-out. He had pale white, plum-shadowed skin that made him look almost ex-sanguinated. His hair was pumpkin orange, and electrified-looking, standing out from the sides of his head beneath an eccentrically decorated top hat covered in once-fine tapestry complete with an extravagant feather, a wide salmon sash, and exquisitely jeweled hat-pins.

The Hatter smiled at her inspection of him, his deep plum lips parting to reveal an oddly endearing space between his front teeth.

"Well," the deep voice announced, "if you're going to waste my time getting re-acquainted - _again_ - I think I shall be on my way."

"Oh, yes - fairfarren, Absolem!" said the Hatter, and he gave an absent wave.

"And to you, Tarrant Hightopp. Until we meet again, you ungrateful brat."

Alice scowled and looked in the direction of the wave, ready to give this 'Absolem' a piece of her mind - but all she saw was a brilliant blue, winsome-looking butterfly drifting away through some undergrowth.

"You're not the same as you were before," The Hatter suddenly said thoughtfully. "Or before _that_ before."

Alice looked at him helplessly. "What are you talking about?"

His unfocused eyes snapped to hers, and he frowned. "What?"

"What?"

He lifted a wicked orange brow. _"What?" _He shook his head. "You really should finish your thoughts before you give voice to them - makes conversing with you very difficult."

Alice squeezed her eyes shut. _Patience._

It would have been too easy to give into giggles of hysteria, but instead she decided to ask him a question.

"What was that place? The pond - that water, where I was before?""

The Hatter's highly animated face fell. "Oh...you had the _extreme_ misfortune of landing in the Red Queen's moat at Salazen Grum - her castle was here before she was exiled."

Alice gulped. "There were, you know..._skulls_ in the water." _'God, where am I!'_

The Hatter nodded solemnly. "Yes," he lisped, and Alice fought not to smile, "you were lucky, though," his voice dropped to a low whisper, "they used to be _whole heads!"_

Thinking back to what it was she'd been slipping around in, in the moat, she felt nauseous again. Alice didn't think she'd been all that lucky after all.

"I think I need a bath," she said, her face drawing up in disgust.

The Hatter nodded again, and gestured with elegantly cuffed hands to his legs where he knelt. "Me too, I'm afraid."

Alice looked down and saw the same muck that she could feel covering her staining his once brown boots, mismatched striped stockings, and a good bit of his pants.

"Oh!" she realized, "you saved me!"

The Hatter pulled a face. "Not really, no. I mean, Absolem, he was the one who found you floating in the moat - face up, thank goodness - and I was the first he came across when he flew to get help, and I _did_ come to pull you out of the water - "

Alice put up her hands. "Wait, wait, wait - did you say 'flew'?"

The Hatter closed his mouth mid-word and gave an uncertain kind of nod.

Alice sighed. "He was...the butterfly, wasn't he? Of course it was, I have _brain damage_..."

The Hatter beamed. "You remember!"

Alice's eyebrows went up. "Remember what?"

"Oh...you _don_'t remember." He sounded distinctly disappointed.

"Hm?"

"Well, at least you're the right-proper size Alice this time..."

Alice couldn't keep up with him. She suddenly became aware of the throbbing in her head again, and a brutal sting in her left arm. She tried to lift the filthy limb for the first time and she couldn't - but she did manage a mighty nice whimper.

The Hatter watched as she caught her breath and went completely still. "What is it?"

"My arm...my head," she groaned. Lifting her eyes to his, she noticed her sight beginning to waver. The greenery, gray sky, and ruins she'd just now noticed behind the Hatter began to haze, and swim. She felt her eyes drift to the side to keep up with the wavering landscape, and closed them before she got any dizzier.

"Why, Alice! You're turning red!"

"Just bleeding, I guess," Alice mumbled, feeling light-headed. "M'okay."

"Bloody, bleeding, bump! Oh, 'B' words, bad, _not_ good! Don't worry, Alice, I shall take you to the White Queen - surely she can fix you!"

"Okay," Alice said again, and all was quiet for what seemed like a long time. Then a bird chattered loudly nearby, and a flurry of movement in front of her made her open eyes again.

The Hatter was sliding his hands under her legs and back, and she made a faint sound of protest as he lifted her against him and carried her over to a little hay-filled cart.

"Shh...rest!"

"It's ruined, now. You'll need a new coat," Alice murmured. "S'really too bad about this one, though - I like the color."

The Hatter didn't respond as he wrapped a long scarf around her arm and tied it off.

"Cold," Alice gave a shudder.

"I know, I know," said the Hatter breathlessly, and he covered her with a heavy throw, frantically patting down the edges.

The musty blanket covered her head, and the fringe on it tickled her nose, but Alice was too hurt, and too tired to do anything about it. Instead she just closed her eyes and drifted off as the small cart began to roll forward.

The clatter of wooden wheels on the stone drive at the front of her castle drew the White Queen's attention from a slightly drooping blossom tree, and with a swift goodbye that was only slightly rude, she hurried forward to see who was visiting.

Approaching the entry, she heard unbelievably heavy breathing, and was shocked to see a dirty, sweaty, grimacing Royal Hatter hurrying up to her, pulling a hay cart, of all the odd, undignified things!

As soon as he saw her, the Hatter came to an abrupt stop, panting, and his attempt at a bow was more like resting, bent over, with his hands propped upon his knees.

"Tarrant? Whatever is happening? Are you quite all right?" Mirana, asked in alarm.

At the sound of her voice, a half dozen knights arrived, swords drawn, and with a small frown of irritation, she waved them off.

Catching his breath, the Hatter looked up at her and shook his head. "It is...Alice," he croaked roughly, and a convenient servant quickly arrived to offer him water.

Surprised, Mirana clapped her hands together in delight. "Alice? Wonderful! She has returned to Underland?" Her excited voice again brought an audience, only this time it was a small crowd of nobles from her court, curious and all ears.

"Yes," the Hatter agreed, wiping his face with a handkerchief, "but I'm afraid she has returned to Underland...damaged."

The Hatter stepped out of the way and allowed the Queen to see the blanketed bundle on the small cart behind him. As the Mirana moved forward, he pulled the plaid down to first expose Alice's dirtied face, and then her bandaged arm and hand. He gently unwrapped the scarf he'd tied around Alice's still bleeding arm, and the ugly laceration gushed again.

"Oh! This wound...!" The White Queen covered her lips and choked delicately, looking as if she might become ill at any moment.

"Can you fix him?'" The Hatter asked anxiously.

"Her," Mirana absently corrected him. "I _can_ help her - but of course, I will need you to stitch these cuts for me..."

The Hatter made an unintelligible sound in his throat. Stuffing the handkerchief back into his cuff, he took his hat in his hands, and began rotating it nervously, by its brim. "Me?" he squeaked. "S-stitch? Her...erm, _flesh_?"

Mirana gave him a sympathetic look. "Well, _I_ cannot do it. Don't worry, you'll do fine."

The Hatter gave her a painful grimace in return. "I...do not doubt my skills, your Highness...only my sanity."

Mirana, gingerly feeling Alice's head for the source of the matted blood in her hair, paused and turned back to him.

"Tarrant," was all she said.

The Hatter dropped his eyes to the hat in his hands and breathed deep. After a moment, he seemed to straighten his back and regain a touch of confidence.

"I shall endeavor do my finest work, your Majesty."

"I know that you will, dearest friend." Mirana lifted a delicate hand, and instantly a white knight came to lift the unconscious Alice from her nest.

"_No!" _

Mirana flinched. "Ahem...yes, Tarrant?"

The Hatter looked as surprised at his outburst as everyone else in front of the great hall. He shifted, and cleared his throat.

"Please," he asked in a much softer voice, "may I carry her?"

Mirana, relieved, gracefully inclined her head. "Of course. To my solar, please. I'll want her close." She looked at her ladies-in-waiting and they needed no more than that to know to quickly disappear and collect her potions.

Mirana stepped aside as the Hatter approached and carefully lifted the girl into his arms. The solemnity of his expression as he looked at Alice's face brought tears to Mirana's eyes. Dabbing them discreetly, she followed them directly, waving off her guards.

As they moved inside, and approached the grand staircase, Mirana admired the determined strength of her friend as he climbed before her, cradling his burden, and never once faltering, despite his apparent exhaustion.

She was so pleased that her champion - her _friend_ - had returned. Ages earlier it seemed, in her heart-of-hearts, she had hoped, perhaps, that _The_ Alice would stay, and not only help Mirana herself ignore her own inescapable dark side, but also The Hatters.

Sadly, it had not happened, and Alice had left...but with a promise to come back.

And she had.

As they arrived in her private solar, Mirana directed the organization of hastily collected mattresses and pillows, hot water for a bath for Alice, and the arrangement of herbs, powders and other tools needed to treat her champion's grievous injury.

"Only Alice would receive worse wounds simply upon entering Underland, than fighting the Jabberwocky," she heard the Hatter say as he stood by the temporary pallet Alice lay upon. Once the girl had been bathed and treated, she would be moved to a more comfortable bed.

Mirana took a moment to carefully cleanse her hands, and the Hatter's, before she took up a damp cloth and began wiping the grime from around Alice's wound. "I must agree," she told the Hatter sadly. She put down the cloth, and took up an anti-septic solution, and a bulbous instrument with which to irrigate the wound.

"After it is clean, I will need you to sew up the wound. I believe she is fully unconscious at this point, but I'm afraid this _will_ hurt," she told the Hatter regrettably. "You may need to hold her down."

Looking beyond aggrieved, the Hatter gave his fingers a resolved wiggle in preparation, and placed his hand upon the still girl. Once he was pressing down firmly, he looked up at Mirana and gave a slight, uncertain nod.

Mirana tried to smile, and look reassuring, and then she handed him the irrigation tool...

When the wounds were cleansed, and Alice had finally stopped crying out and thrashing, the Hatter released his hold with stiff movements, and slowly backed away, his level of anxiety clear in his disturbing eyes. His limp fingers dropped the cleansing supplies on the floor.

Mirana, her own nerves tattered, wiped her forehead, and moved to remove the Hatter's sash of bobbins and his coat. He jumped, and she laid a hand on his arm to calm him. After a tense moment, he allowed her to take the ruined coat, and the hat that was somehow still upon his head.

He cleared his throat, and blinked a few times, before lifting his hands and pushing off the fingerless gloves they were wrapped in. They went into the coat and hat pile, along with the colorful bobbins and thimbles he habitually wore on his fingertips.

While he cleansed his hands and discolored nails again, Mirana accepted the items he'd need to close Alice's horrific cut from a hovering lady.

A lamp was set nearby as the Hatter settled himself on a stool near the pallet, and Mirana held out the cloth-covered tray of purified scissors, needles, and thread.

The Hatter's hand was shaking as he reached out to flip off the cloth, and his whole appearance was one of extreme weariness...but when he took up the thread and curved needle, his hands were suddenly steady, and his eyes clear, and filled with purpose.

As he leaned over Alice's arm, Marina took several steps back to stand with their tiny audience of two ladies-in-waiting, and a silent white knight. She told herself it was because she wanted to give Tarrant some room, but it was truly because she had a difficult time handling the sight of such carnage.

The Hatter worked quickly, and skillfully, carefully laid aside his tools when he was done. He was washing away the blood when Marina hesitantly stepped up beside him again, and she gasped.

"Why, I can barely see the stitches, Tarrant!" she softly exclaimed. "What skill! She'll have you to thank when there is no evidence of a scar left!"

Tarrant didn't answer, and Mirana looked to see that the poor man had quite simply disappeared, leaving his coat and hat behind.

**To be continued**


	3. Chapter 3

**Strange Asylum**

**Chapter Three: Little Heaven**

A/N: Hello, again! Well, I have to say, I didn't expect the feedback I've received on this story so far. It's really kind of you all to take the time to stop and leave a comment - I know you didn't have to do that, and I appreciate it. I'd like to point out that this story was inspired largely by an old Heather Nova song I came across again about a week ago. It's called 'Heart and Shoulder', and it practically narrates this fic. I recommend listening to it, it really is touching. Thanks again for reading!

Mirana knew that the poor Hatter needed some time alone after his ordeal, but she was honestly unsure of just how much space to give him. Mother Night had fallen, and she was concerned about his state-of-mind, as well as his stomach. She knew he needed a bath, a meal, rest, and above all, peace and quiet.

After seeing to Alice's comfort, Mirana left a friend to sit with her, and went to seek out the Hatter herself, finally finding him on the terrace over-looking the waterfalls.

Standing in the archway leading out onto the terrace, Mirana paused, one hand reaching out to touch a column as she fondly regarded her friend.

Tarrant was standing before the stone railing at the end of the terrace, motionless as he watched the skies. Mirana knew he was most likely lost in his chaotic thoughts, and endeavored not to startle him as she approached, but as she lay a gentle touch upon his shirt-sleeve to gain his attention, he turned silently to look down at her.

The expression in his shadowed green eyes made her want to cry.

"Oh, dear Tarrant," she breathed, lifting a hand to his lean, pale cheek. "What can I say to ease you?"

The Hatter's lip trembled at her calming touch, and then he blinked, and took a contrite step back. "Forgive me, your Majesty," he murmured.

Mirana smiled kindly. "Nonsense, Tarrant. You are my friend. It hurts my heart to see you so troubled." She sighed. "I should not have asked you to attend to Alice so."

The Hatter blinked again, expression uncertain, and then he shook his head. "I must confess, seeing Alice so terribly injured was...frightening." He closed his eyes. "I was so afraid," he whispered. "It's shameful."

"There is nothing shameful about being frightened for a friend. You most likely saved her life, Tarrant. Her wounds may not have been entirely life-threatening, but they could have been if you had not acted so swiftly." Mirana sighed again. "As it is, if an infection sets in, she could still be in danger. A fever now could prove fatal." She wrinkled her nose. "She could not have landed in a less fortuitous place with an open wound."

"Aye. The bluidy Red Queen remains in exile, yet still her foulness reaches out to destroy Underland's champion," the Hatter snarled, red-gold cinders rising in his eyes, while the outer rims darkened to charcoal.

Mirana lifted a finger to her lips, knowing how the mere mention of her sister made him react. "Shh, let's not ruin Alice's return to us by speaking of Iracebeth." She watched patiently until the red-gold receded, and then took the Hatter's arm and began to lead him inside.

"Now, let us find you a bath, and something to eat. You'll want to look your best when Alice rouses, yes...?"

Alice awoke to blindingly bright white silk damask bed-curtains hanging all around her, so pristine they almost glistened.

At first she thought she'd actually died and gone to heaven, but when she realized how much she still hurt, she figured that probably wasn't the case.

Alice opened her mouth to ask if anyone was around, but her throat closed up with the effort - her mouth was so dry, she couldn't even clear her throat.

Beginning to cough, she sat up, intending to reach outside the bed-curtains to see if she could find a drink, when they were suddenly swept aside, and an angelic-looking woman stepped up to the bed, smiling.

"Oh, Alice!" the woman breathed, her dark eyes twinkling merrily, "I am so relieved to see you awake! It's been _days_ - well, it would have been, if poor Time was not still terribly offended!"

Alice tried to stop the dry cough, she really did, but it just kept coming until her eyes began to water.

The woman frowned, and then retrieved a crystal goblet of water, and brought it to the bedside. She helped Alice to sit up, and then held the cool drink to her lips.

Alice unabashedly gulped the water down, and then looked at the other woman gratefully as she settled back against her lush pillows.

"Thank you," she croaked.

"You are very welcome, indeed," the woman nodded, and then tilted her lovely head to the side and studied Alice closely. "You seem...different." She swept her sparkling white skirts to the side, and perched on the side of the bed.

Alice swallowed. "I do?"

"Mm. Perhaps...a bit younger than when I saw you last." Her eyes narrowed, and then she shook her head. "No, that is not it. It is something..." she went still suddenly, and then stiffened. She looked at Alice with haunted eyes.

"You have known much pain and injustice since our last meeting, Alice Kingsleigh. I can see it in your eyes."

Alice dropped her eyes to her lap.

"Well," the lady said quietly, "we shall not speak of it...not until you are ready."

_'That day will never come,' _Alice thought silently. There was no way she could talk about _those_ _things_ with this gorgeous, perfect woman. She'd die of shame.

"But please, know this, Alice," the vision added, her voice low, and unbelievably kind, "you may speak to me on _any_ subject...for you have the unconditional love of my heart, and any comfort my shoulder may be able offer."

Alice's throat closed up again. She didn't know what to say. "Um, thank you," she finally choked out.

The lady regarded her with serious, soft eyes for a moment longer, and then she sighed, shaking her head.

"I see now that giving you the blood of the Jabberwocky was probably not the wisest choice I could have made." She smiled wanly. "Of course, I had to offer you that choice, you understand - free will and all of that."

Alice nodded, but didn't really have a clue. Everyone in this place was talking to her as if they

knew her. She didn't even know where she was!

"Um...your Highness?" Alice ventured, finally noting the delicate crown on the lady's head, "Where am I?"

The lady drew back, looking suprised. "You do not remember?"

Alice bit her lip. "Am I supposed to?" she asked timidly.

"You do not remember me? Or the Hatter?"

Alice became twitchy. "Please, don't be offended, but I don't have any idea where I am, or who you or anyone else is."

The lady's eyes sharpened. "Hmm. What _do_ you recall, Alice?"

_'Oh, crap, she _is_ offended,' _thought Alice. "I um, remember...a storm. I was cold, and wet," she narrowed her eyes in thought. "It was dark, and there was this little door...and then a mirror."

"A mirror?" the lady repeated suspiciously. "What did it look like?"

Alice blinked, and tried to remember. "It was old - the wood was dark. It had roses carved all over it, and hearts - "

"_The Looking Glass!" _the lady announced, and shot up off the bed. "It was supposed to have been destroyed along with her castle! How in the universe did it end up in the Outerworld?"

"Looking Glass?" Alice mumbled. Wasn't that just an old way of saying 'mirror'?

"Do you recall the Bandersnatch? The Jub-Jub bird? The Jabberwocky?"

Alice squeezed her eyes shut, hearing only nonsense. But wait...

"Jabberwocky?" Alice said, keeping her eyes closed. "Sounds familiar...I'm sure I've heard it somewhere."

_'Beware the Jabberwocky, my son,'_ whispered a roughened voice inside her head, and she nodded. "Yes, I know I have."

The lady sighed, and Alice opened her eyes.

"That's good, then. Yes, yes, it is a start. You will most likely begin to remember a great many things, Alice. Do not be afraid. They are only the memories of the Times Before. You see, Time moves a great deal differently here, that is, in Underland. Time here has a mind of its own, and is rather easily offended. Whereas, in the Outerworld, where you are from, Time plods along, in an unchanging pace, and people are born, and live, and die. Here, Time can twist, and turn, stutter, and stop altogether." The lady paused, and looked at Alice thoughtfully.

"You are on your third visit with us, in your second life. It is no wonder your memories are so faded...and it certainly explains why poor Tarrant is so melancholy."

Alice shook the confusion from her head. "Tarrant?"

The lady smiled sadly. "I suppose you may remember him as the Hatter."

"Oh," Alice said. "He's sad?"

"Among many other things," the lady sighed again.

"So...I've been here, twice before? In another life, you mean?"

"This is true."

"I've known you before?"

"Positively. My name is Mirana. I am the White Queen, sovereign of Underland, and you are in my castle in Marmoreal." The Queen smiled, and leaned forward to embrace her. "And you are safe, now, dear Alice. You are finally home."

Alice was finally allowed out of her chambers after a hot bath, and a once over of her now-healed wounds by the Queen. The only thing left to show of her ordeal was a long red weal on the underside of her forearm, with tiny marks from removed stitches, that were already fading, and a few more red knicks covering her knuckles and palm. The Queen had assured her that with the regular application of a cream, these marks would all but fade, as well.

After donning a simple cream dress with cap-sleeves, a scoop-neck, and a blue-gray waist sash that the grinning Queen had insisted matched her eyes, Alice was sent out into the sunny gardens to take tea.

Unaware of what exactly, it meant to 'take tea', Alice walked slowly down a vast stone terrace, her shiny ivory slippers making no sound on the steps as she descended onto the luxuriant green grass. She looked around the gardens, vast with giant, towering trees, and every color of flower imaginable, and didn't see a single being in sight. She turned in a slow circle, her full skirts swishing gently against her already tired and trembling legs, and finally caught sight of a path of stepping stones leading into the trees.

Deciding she'd better move before weakness took her over, Alice walked along the little path, pausing to several times to look around her, before she finally heard what sounded like running water coming up around a small bend in the wood.

Picking up her skirts, with their many bewildering lace petticoats, Alice took three tiny steps up a small stone incline, and found herself in a brightly-lit clearing, with the trees leaves throwing lacy shade patterns over an extremely long table covered in a white cloth.

Alice paused, taking in the sight before her as probably one of the most beautiful she'd ever seen. The long white table was set with sparkling silver and delicate china, along with small mountains of impossibly delicious-looking cakes and cookies. There were giant, low-and-wide crystal bowls of flowers, and even real fabric napkins! With napkin rings!

Set behind the long table was what looked like a huge, formal English pond, a long rectangle of water with exotic-looking floating flowers and plants, a large stone fountain, and statues and artistically sculpted hedges all around. The theme, she noticed, seemed to be the same as the rest of the brilliant castle - chess. White chess pieces, rather, scattered everywhere, even built into the structures. The fountain in the pond looked to made of white marble, and it was carved into the shape of a knight, a magnificent horse's head, spouting crystal water.

Almost overcome by the beauty around her, Alice couldn't help but stop and stare. After a few minutes, she made herself move, and hesitantly walked around the table to its head. Obviously, the large blue chair was meant for the Queen, so she took a chance and sat in the second chair on the right from it. She was sure she didn't rate the first, next to the head. She was reaching out to pull the heavy white chair away from the table, when a very quiet, gentle voice behind her said, "Allow me."

Alice spun around, a tad too quick for her weakened muscles, and almost fell in a heap, but the person behind her caught her elbows, and steadied her.

"Thank you," she said, embarrassed, and looked up into the wild eyes of none-other than the Hatter. "Oh," she said, startled, "hello."

The Hatter smiled tenderly, his lips quirking to one side. "Hullo, Alice," he responded, his expression, surprisingly, very calm, his pale lashes lowered over his brilliant eyes.

Alice swallowed, and offered up a shaky smile.

The Hatter quietly pulled out the chair for her, and gently handed her into it, before sliding it up to the table. The he proceeded to take the seat she had declined, the one right next to the Queen's - and right next to hers.

"Now," said the Hatter, turning slightly to look at her, "how are you feeling?"

Alice found herself way too shy to look him in the face, so she placed her hands in her lap and looked down at them. "Much better, thank you. Well, all thanks to you, actually," she realized, and automatically looked up at him.

He was looking right back at her, leaning with his head on his hand, elbow on the table, that same, quirky smile still on his lips.

Alice smiled helplessly, and looked away again, quickly.

"Um, the Queen told me about what you did for me," she said quickly, focusing on a abnormally large looking blue tiger-lilly in a bowl in front of her. "I really appreciate it, I know you didn't - "

"It's nothing you would not have done for me," the Hatter murmured, and suddenly the blue flower was moving out of her line-of-sight. Alice followed it, and was abashed to be looking directly at the Hatter again. He was holding the blue flower in his hand, and had a tiny pair of shiny scissors in the other. There was a couple of quick snips, and then he produced a long, slender blue ribbon from seemingly nowhere, and began twisting it around the flower stem. After a quick moment, he looked back at her, and still with that same smile, reached out to carefully, but firmly, place the large flower in the flowing, loose hair above her ear.

"There," he said, pleased with himself, and then turned back to the table as if nothing had happened.

"Thanks," Alice said, bewildered, and nervous. She looked down at the gilded plate, saucer, and cup before her, but couldn't help sneaking a glance at the Hatter again.

Just as she had changed her clothes since they'd last met, so had he. Well, she supposed he'd had too, seeing as she'd practically ruined his.

Feeling guilty, Alice took several surreptitious looks at him, noting the fine and no doubt costly fabrics that made up his new suit. His pants were almost black, with a very dark pin-stripe, and they were tucked into dark, shiny half-boots that she could see peeking out from under the tablecloth. He wore a high-collared snowy white shirt, with lace cuffs spilling out over his hands, upon which he wore lovely turquoise finger-less gloves. His waistcoat was a dark brocade, with brass buttons that seemed to have a flying sparrow embossed upon them. His jacket, though, was the exact same shade of burgundy brocade she'd first seen him in, except this was obviously new. His brilliant white collar points stood out above his large and brightly patterned paisley cravat, and he sported the exact same hat he'd worn before, with the charming patch, and pins, indigo feather, and all.

Alice thought he looked almost...

The Hatter turned his head.

Alice dropped her eyes again.

"You, um...look very nice," she told him faintly.

"You are very kind," he responded warmly.

Unable to think of anything else to say, Alice brought her right hand to her lips, and began absently, nervously nibbling on her fingernails.

"Oh, please! Don't do that, it's an awfully bad habit," the Hatter commented softly, pulling her hand away from her mouth.

Alice blushed, embarrassed at being called out for chewing her nails even here. She sat on her hands, forced a smile to her lips and gave an obnoxious little laugh. "Wow, if biting my nails when I'm nervous is that bad of a habit, then I guess I really should stop wandering around my house in my underwear when no one's home, huh?"

The Hatter stilled, his congenial expression freezing on his face. His right eye gave a violent twitch, and suddenly red-gold striation's around the pupil exploded outward in response.

Alice put her hands over her own face as almost soon as the words fell out of her mouth. "Oh, God, I really just said that out loud, didn't I?" she whispered, feeling a rush of utter horror.

The Hatter didn't respond, not that she'd really expected him to. After a long moment, Alice slowly peeked through her fingers. He hadn't moved, though the discolored skin around his eyes had turned a disturbing shade of black.

"Hatter?" she ventured asking cautiously. Her voice was a mere squeak.

When he didn't move again, Alice dropped her hands and leaned to the side in concern. "Hatter?"

Nothing.

Alice licked her lips, placed her hands palm-down on the table, and the chair arm, and leaned over a little more. "Um..._Tarrant_?" she asked in a cautious whisper, ready to bolt.

Finally, at the sound of his name, the Hatter's scarily vibrant eyes slid towards her, and Alice felt a little chill as they narrowed slightly behind his white lashes.

"Sorry," she squeaked again, sitting back, and suddenly he blinked - once, twice -

"_**Keep the heid!"**_ the Hatter suddenly roared, and Alice screamed and dove under the table, taking half the tablecloth with her.

Alice sat on the grass under the table, trembling in a mess of tinkling silver and thankfully unbroken china, until a deep, mysterious laughter filled the air beside her ear. She jerked around to look, and saw a huge, teal-eyed cat floating by her shoulder, showing a mile of teeth as he laughed and rolled in the air in the dark shade under the table.

Alice was more than a little startled, but she stayed her ground - this time.

The cat stopped laughing with a sigh, and made a show of wiping his eyes with a furry paw. "Ah, what a glorious time I chose to arrive for tea," he drawled, amused. "I'll wager Tarrant won't be worrying on at you about nibbling your nails again any time soon - ha!"

Alice watched the cat doubtfully, clutching handfuls of the tablecloth in her hands.

"I say, I do hope you don't think the daft lad was yelling at _you_," the cat continued, curiously tilting his head at her. "I believe he was only trying to...shall we say, _encourage_ himself to remain in control?"

Alice frowned.

"He was telling himself to 'keep his head', dear child," the cat clarified patiently.

"Why?" Alice asked, bewildered.

The cat's expression turned sly. "Well, you see - "

"_Chessur, continya' on, an' I vow l'see ya' skint!" _the Hatter roared again above them.

" - that's really something you'll have to - _ahem_ - figure out for yourself. I say, is that the Queen I hear? I really should go and give her my regards. Ta!"

The cowardly cat disappeared as quickly as he'd come, and Alice was shaking her head at the whole unbelievable occurrence when the Hatter suddenly lifted a section of cloth and stuck his head down to look at her under the table.

Not certain what to say, she looked anywhere but into his eyes. "Sorry," she blabbed, "all this change seems to have, uh, made me jumpy."

She was looking at the ground when his hand reached out to hers, fingers out-stretched. Hesitating, Alice stared at it until his battered fingers beyond the gloves gave a lithe, enticing little wiggle, and she couldn't help but place her hand in his.

His fingers warmly curled around hers, and he gently, but firmly pulled her out from under the table, his free hand cupping the back of her head as he guided her out, so as to avoid bumping it.

The simple gesture touched Alice, and melted away a lot of her tension as she rose up from her knees, and allowed the Hatter to deliver her back to her chair at the table just as the Queen and several others arrived for tea.

The cat was back, and settled himself into a chair beside Alice after the Queen had been seated. He gave a low purr, and cleared his throat meaningfully, and Alice and the Hatter jumped as they realized they were still clutching each other's hands. They both let go at the same time, and Alice found she missed the contact terribly. Putting her hand beneath the table, she rubbed it against her leg to ease its tingling.

She was distracted by a tutting teapot wandering past the place where her setting had been, and she muttered an apology as the china and silver somehow magically returned to its rightful place. Deciding not to think on the bizarreness of it, Alice waited to be served, watching the effortless grace of the Queen with envy.

**To be continued**


	4. Chapter 4

**Strange Asylum**

**Chapter Four: **The Burden of Sanity

"Keeping sane is quite exhausting," Alice couldn't help but hear as she rounded a curve in the palace. She'd been wandering a lot since the end of dinner that evening, unable to even think of sleeping.

Pausing, she put a hand against the wall, and listened - it sounded as if the Hatter was talking to someone in a room just ahead.

"Ye' should just be yerself, lad," a deep voice with a strong scots burr answered, and there was a funny ticking sound. "She liked ye' jus' fine before, without ye' havin' ta' pretend."

"Yes," the Hatter lisped in his quiet voice, "but she 'liked' me differently today, didn't you see?"

The ticking sound continued, and Alice guiltily took a few more steps ahead, curious. Light poured out of the room ahead of her, a door half-open on the left of the corridor.

"Aye, I saw - an' so did ever'one else ta' tea!"

"Yes, it was a bit embarassing, wasn't it? My obvious regard of her, I mean to say," the Hatter laughed lightly. "Nonetheless, it is a _very_ encouraging development."

"Encouragin', eh? I dinnae understand what's takin' ye' sae long - ye' are a Hightopp mon, aren't ye'? Take the lass already!"

Something fell on the floor with a heavy thump. "Oh, no. No,no,no,no,_no_. Do _not_ begin that again!"

The other voice 'hmphed'. "Ye' should never've let her go last time, in the firs' place," he rumbled.

"Please, stop speaking as if we are beasts," Tarrant spat amidst an impatient rustle. "It was her choice to go. We have no choice in the matter of her comings and goings."

"Oh, aye, but we _could_," the other voice purred silkily, full of innuendo, and Alice felt a blush creeping into her cheeks.

Before Tarrant could respond, Alice began walking forward, making a lot of noise with her feet so he could hear her coming.

The room went silent as she neared it, and passed into the warm light spilling out into the hall.

"Alice!" Tarrant erupted, and Alice couldn't tell if it was a happy exclaimation, or one of dismay. She pasued and turned to look into the half-open doorway.

"Hatter?" she asked softly, and pushed the door open a bit more to stick her head in. "Oh, hello."

The Hatter was standing by a sewing table, alone. No one else was in the room, and Alice frowned. She barely refrained from asking where the other person had gone. Had she been hearing things, or had he been talking to himself...?

"Isn't it a bit late to be working?" she distracted herself by asking, nodding towards the partly completed hat in his hands.

Tarrant looked startled, and dropped the hat onto the table as if he'd forgotten he was even holding it. "Yes, I suppose it is," he answered a little giddily. He smiled uncertainly, and twisted his hands together.

"Couldn't sleep?" Alice asked politely.

"Oh, I don't much," he clarified.

"Me either," Alice said regretfully.

His distracted expression became concerned, and he took a step forward. "Why not?"

"Nightmares," Alice replied before she thought better of it, and then shook her head. "It's nothing."

"Nightmares?" His voice dropped an unsettling octave.

"You shouldnae' be in here," he suddenly said, and that was when Alice knew he _had_ been talking to himself. He began walking quickly towards her, and Alice backed out into the hallway, stumbling.

"Sorry," she muttered, and he shook his head at her.

"Nae, I - I mean, no, you don't understand," he adjusted rapidly, and closed the door shit behind him. "I am so happy to see you anytime, Alice," he told her, "it is just that my work room isn't terribly safe - I should hate to see you come into too much contact with the vapors. Mercury, you see," he explained ruefully, a smile on his lips as he gestured to his head.

"Mercury?" Alice repeated with a frown.

"It explains much, does it not? 'The Mad Hatter'?" Tarrant asked darkly, lowering his head to examine his discolored hands. "Ah, well - an unfortunate aside to the career of a Hatter."

He suddenly went still, and lifted his eyes to hers. "You _do_ recall that I am quite mad?"

Alice's lips fell open. She didn't know how to respond to that.

"The last time you left," he whispered, coming forward slowly, "I told you that you wouldn't remember me. You don't."

He looked so sad, Alice felt her heart drop.

"I don't see how I could have forgotten you," she told him quietly. "I think you're the most interesting person I've ever met. You're funny, and smart, and obviously very talented. You're also very brave, and strong," Alice realized how she sounded and winced. looking away. "I wish I was like that."

"Oh, but you are!" He came forward and took her hands in his. "You're the bravest person in Underland!"

Alice laughed derisively. "Right. Me, brave. I'm totally screwed up."

The Hatter frowned at her, and she sighed.

"I - there's something that's, I dunno', wrong in my head."

"Not you, Alice," the Hatter smiled encouragingly, vehemently shaking his head. "No, there couldn't be."

"There is. I know you probably don't want it to be true, but it is. I'm not the person you remember me being. Bad...things, have happened. I wish there wasn't anything wrong, I really, really do. Sometimes it's all I can do to hold on ." She looked at him helplessly, absently clutching his fingers for comfort. "I'm kind of, just...falling apart, bit-by-bit."

The Hatter looked taken aback for a moment, and then he gave a bemused, tiny twist of his lips, and regarded her with something between warmth and wonder in his eyes.

"I am, too," he told her dejectedly, and then he brightened. "But perhaps that means we can go to pieces together?"

Alice laughed as she looked up into his big, bright eyes. "I'd love the company."

The Hatter grinned madly. "Me too!"

Alice couldn't help herself after that, so overcome with joy and a sense of relief, she threw her arms around the Hatter and buried her face in his shirt-front as she smiled. "Thank you!"

The Hatter seemed stunned for an uncomfortable moment before he hesitantly lifted his arms to encircle her, too.

_To be Continued_

_A/N: I apologize for the shortness, and the fluff, but I needed it just then, LOL. Thanks for reading._


	5. Chapter 5

**Strange Asylum**

**Author's Note/Warning: This chapter hints a bit more at the darker secrets Modern!Alice is keeping to herself. It contains a few details that, while not graphic, may be espescially disturbing to some readers. Please do not continue reading if you are underage. Thanks for the imput from the reviewers!**

**Chapter Five: **Night and Other Dark Places

Over the next few days, Alice spent a lot of time alone, trying to remember any details about the past visits she'd made to Underland. She didn't really understand how she was supposed to recall them, because they'd been in a past life - didn't that make her a totally different person?

Trying to figure out the possibilities of reincarnation eventually made her head hurt. It wasn't something she'd ever read much about, or really kept much of an interest in, so thinking about it made her frustrated and moody, and of course, that was a certain way to drive away company.

Alice hadn't seen much of the Hatter since that first night - she wasn't sure why, it wasn't as if she hadn't been keeping an eye out for him - but she thought maybe it was because she'd embarassed him by hugging him out-of-the-blue like that. Just thinking about it made _her_ face burn...

One late afternoon, when the sky was just starting to grow dark, she was sitting in a favorite spot she'd found not far from the clearing where the queen frequently took her tea. For some reason, this area of the woods had the colors of fall - the ground was covered in leaves from every shade of yellow to brown, and gold to red, one could imagine. There was a large tree there, with a rope and wood swing hanging from one of it's fat branches.

Swaying lazily back and forth, she was scuffing her shoes through the piles of leaves, frowning absently into the distance as she tried to unwind her memories. Unfortunately, in her search for the happy ones, she came across a lot of nightmares.

Her swinging slowly came to a halt as she stared at the ground between her feet, barely aware of the golden leaves floating down around her. Her stare became more intense, her brow furrowing more tightly as the same old anger, bitterness, hurt, and regret began to roll in waves throughout her. She could feel the emotions beginning to overpower her, and knew it was probably a result of the past week and a half - at least by her count - without her medications.

Alice's fingers gripped the ropes on either side of her until the fibers cut into her skin. God, the things she remembered - half of her memories shouldn't even be possible, she'd been so young. How could she remember? How could...how could they do something like that to a child? That poor, pretty little blonde girl she'd always seen in pictures...it was hard to think she had once been that child.

Alice gripped the ropes tighter, hot, painful tears burning at the backs of her eyes. She continued to stare, focusing blindly on a curled leaf, suddenly unable to appreciate the delicate veins and warm colors.

Alice was stuck, lost that way for the longest time as the sky turned orange, then purple, and finally black. The stars were shining down, winking at her, when a cold breeze rushed right through her, chilling her to the bone. Snapping out of her self-pity in disgust, Alice unclenched her hands, raising her head on it's stiff neck to look around the forest in shock at how late it had become.

She knew she wasn't far from the castle, but the lack of light still gave her a bit of a fright.

Angry at herself, Alice lifted her hands to wipe the cool and drying tears from her eyes and itchy cheeks. She got off the swing, groaning a little as her knees ached.

Shuffling through the pungent leaves, Alice sighed, and hoped she would remember the way out in the dark.

Just the then a limb cracking made her jump, and she yelped aloud before she could catch herself.

"Alice?"

"Oh, thank God," Alice mumbled, putting a hand to her head in relief as she recognized the Hatter's voice coming from the trail ahead of her.

There was a crunch of leaves as feet came walking towards her, and she went forward, eager to meet the owner of them.

"Tarrant? I am _so_ glad to see you - I was scared half-to-death!" Alice blabbed when the familiar figure came into view, a small lantern held up in one hand.

The Hatter hurried forward, looking so concerned it almost made her cry again. "Alice!" he exclaimed, reaching out one hand to catch her shoulder. He looked down into her eyes, his own almost hidden by the fierceness of his frown. "Are you alright? Did something happen to you?"

The amount of concern in his question almost undid her. It was more than she could remember anyone ever showing her, and her face fell.

The poor Hatter didn't have a clue as to what to say as she buried her face in her hands and began to sob. He set the lantern aside.

Alice gasped for air as her throat became tight - her chest was hurting so badly, she wondered if her heart really was breaking.

Gentle, hesitant hands reached out to touch her wrists. When she didn't respond, he wrapped his fingers around her wrists, and pulled them from her face.

When Alice saw those pale fingertips wrapped so warmly around her, it only made her cry harder, and the Hatter made a rough sound in his throat, and gathered her into him, sinking down into the leaves to hold her tight against him, cradling her as she sobbed her pain out.

Another cool breeze sent a chill racing up her back, and she shuddered, turning her cheek into his warm throat. She didn't stop to think about why his collar was loose, or why he wasn't wearing the ever-present cravat, or hat - she was too grateful for the closeness at that moment.

It was a long time before she came to her senses enough to realize what an idiot she was making of herself, and abruptly tried to pull back.

The Hatter wouldn't let her.

"I-I'm so sorry," Alice found herself stuttering as she went still again. His arms only tightened slightly in response.

"Tarrant?" she whispered, laying her head against his collarbone. "Thank you for coming to find me." She heard his heartbeat increase, and stayed still.

The Hatter released an unsteady breath.

"What upset you so?" he suddenly asked, his voice odd.

Alice gulped, her fingers pressing against his coat. She didn't really know what to say - she definitely didn't want to explain the truth, but she didn't want to lie to him either.

"Bad memories," she whispered against his neck, and felt him shiver. She tried to lean back again, certain he was uncomfortable, but again, he wouldn't let her.

"Someone hurt you, didn't they?" he asked roughly.

Alice shut her eyes tight, but didn't say anything. She couldn't.

The Hatter took her silence as a positive, and his chest muscles tensed against her. "My poor Alice," he finally whispered, lifting a hand to cradle her head against him.

Alice ground her teeth together trying not to cry again. She wasn't usually like this, so...weak.

"I've lost my muchness again, haven't I?" she asked, giving a little sob of a laugh, completely oblivious to the change in her voice, the sudden appearance of a soft accent.

"I daresay, if you did, it wasn't any fault of yours," Tarrant told her quietly, a hint of a smile in his words.

"It wasn't!" Alice said, almost violently. "It wasn't my fault!"

"I know," Tarrant told her, letting her go, only to take her face in his hands, and tilt it up to his.

Alice looked up at him, his face blurry through the tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she sniffed, I feel so stupid. I was just sitting there, trying to remember, and all I could think about was...well, and I didn't realize how dark it had gotten."

The Hatter didn't say anything, again, and Alice reached up to wipe away the tears so she could see him better. She blinked up at him, and then gasped.

She couldn't see him perfectly, but the light from the lantern on the ground nearby helped. His large eyes were reflecting oddly, gold shot through with red, surrounded by pools of dark charcoal - just like they'd been the other day, only worse. That had been startling, but this...this was terrifying, the darkness actually creeping vein-like down his lean face.

"Tarrant," she asked in a tiny voice, "are you alright?"

His response was to laugh, but it was low, and angry sounding.

Alice couldn't help withdrawing a bit more. He looked so foreign right now, and without his bright colors and top hat, he looked even more like a stranger.

"Tarrant - "

"You ask me if _I_ am alrigh'?" he asked with a hiss, the rogue accent back in full force. Using the hands he still cupped her face with, he gently pulled her forward, until her nose almost brushed his. "What has happened to ye', love?" His eyes searched hers, and she felt herself blushing at his closeness.

"I'll kill him," he growled, and Alice's mouth dropped open. She hadn't even said anything!

"I knew I shouldn'a let ye' leave," he said to himself, shaking his head. "It's my fault."

"God, no!" Alice exclaimed, horrified that he'd even think it. "Listen to me, Tarrant, there is no way you ever had anything to do with - " she cut herself short, scared to say anything more. She really would die if he ever knew, even if he just suspected, it would completely break her.

"With wha', Alice?" he asked, a snarl on his lips. "What happened? What did he do to ye'? What's 'is name?"

Alice stared at him in dismay. What could she say? That it hadn't been just one man? That it had been _members_ of her own family, the ones that should have been protecting her from day one, instead of using her? How could she tell him what was wrong when she didn't even understand why it happened, herself?

"I can't," she said, finally, shaking her head. "Please, Tarrant."

"You dinnae' trust me," he responded flatly, drawing back.

"No, it's not that! You don't understand! Everyone I've ever told either doesn't believe me, or is disgusted by me, but hides it behind pity! I can see that they think they're doing me a favor by just acknowledging me! I couldn't stand for you to look at me that way!" Alice shouted, standing and turning away from him in shame. She hid behind her hair, and shook her head.

"Please, anyone but you, Tarrant."

The night air chilled her again, and she wished she had worn something more substantial than the short-sleeved, long blue linen dress she'd put on this morning. She missed her cozy ripped jeans, and trusty, broken-in denim jacket like crazy right now.

Just then the leaves shifted, and she knew he was standing. She was about to turn to face him again when a heavy, soft warmth enveloped her, and he draped her in his coat.

Alice's heart leapt into her throat, and she closed her eyes to savor the feel of his arms around her, even if they were only buttoning the top of the coat closed, and then sliding slowly away, his hands lifting her hair free of the collar. A surge of utter excitement jolted her, taking her breath away at the feeling of his fingers wrapped in her curls.

She couldn't keep the quiet moan of disappointment from escaping her throat when his hands finished sifting through her hair, and he was no longer touching her. She didn't know how to continue from there, but didn't have to worry, for he stepped around in front of her, and she felt his uneven breath fall across her forehead.

"I'm sorry," she apologized again, feeling breathless, opening her eyes to look at him. "I always catch myself being way too honest with you for some reason."

He gave a small, dark laugh. "Alice, you think you're burdening me."

Alice sighed, letting her head drop. "Aren't I?'

"No. I am already burdened with madness. What more can I do but listen and love?" He held out his hands to her, his poor hands that were as tattered as his sanity, and looked at her helplessly, his now startling green eyes slightly downcast and despairing. "What more can I do, Alice-mine?"

Alice felt her heart stop. _Alice-mine..._

"It drives me mad to think that someone has hurt you so badly that you doubt yourself, Alice," he continued, lisping gently, daring, oh-so-softly, to place the lightest kiss on her forehead.

Closing her eyes, she felt herself melt as his lips brushed her sensitive skin. She lifted her head a little, and after a slight hesitation, she felt him kiss the tip of her nose, too. The darkness made her brave, and she impatiently pushed forward to kiss his lips.

He gasped as she touched her lips to his, and then she realized what she was doing and pulled away with wide eyes. She stumbled back a few steps, fingers coming up through the folds of his coat to touch her tingling lips.

Tarrant stood right where she'd left him, his face almost entirely in shadow where the lantern-light didn't strike him. She couldn't see his eyes, and that worried her.

"We...should go, I guess," she said falteringly.

"Alice," he said, and she bit her lip, scared of what he was going to say next.

"I won't let anyone hurt you ever again. _Ever_."

Alice swallowed as she felt fresh tears sting her eyes, and she gave a small nod, and waited until he retrieved the lantern and joined her, taking her hand, to begin walking out of the woods and back to the castle.

When they returned to the castle, all was quiet, and the lights had been lowered for the night, only a few candles left burning here and there.

The warmth of the palace was startling after the cool air outside, and it drained the energy right from Alice. The Hatter asked her if she needed something to eat, but she only shook her head - she couldn't bear to think of eating right now.

"At least come have tea with me," Tarrant cajoled, turning out the lantern and placing it on a marble sidetable. His hat was on the table too, and he picked it up and put it on with an elegant flourish that seemed second nature to him.

Too tired to argue about the tea, Alice let him take her hand in his, and trudged up the stairs behind him, still wrapped in his coat. When she finally paid attention to her surroundings again, he was leading her through a door she recognized as being next to his workroom. He left the door open, and ushered her into a small, masculine sitting room, handing her into an emerald velvet chair.

Alice yawned as she watched him provide a bit more light, and leave the room to fetch fresh water, presumably. She blinked a few times, and settled back into the chair. She looked around, noting the paper patterns scattered everywhere, and and a small desk in the corner with an overturned inkwell, it's brilliant blue quill stained by the dried black ink. Smiling at the other little eccentricities she saw around that clearly labeled this his room, she stood when she saw a large bookcase against one wall, it's shelves bowing slightly under the weight of it's many volumes.

Alice stepped over to it, looking up at the titles of the leather-bound, often guilded, books. She tilted her head, this way, and that, straining to read the haphazardly stacked titles. "'Introduction to Underland Millinery', 'Anatomy of a Hightopp Hat', 'Economics of Silk Importing', 'The...Language of the Glove'," she read aloud, humming to herself. "Interesting."

"Isn't it, though?" the Hatter piped cheerily as he rushed back through the doorway.

Alice started a bit, but smiled as she watched him mumble to himself as he danced around the small table between the velvet chairs.

"Well, sit down, sit down!" Tarrant told her impatiently, practically shoving a teacup in her hand.

Alice barely kept the tea from sloshing over the rim, and then cleared her throat before taking a sip. It was honey and chamomile, her favorite.

"Thank you," she told him, watching him take a noisy slurp of his tea with an amused smile.

His bright eyes flickered to hers over his cup, and then abruptly looked away. He lowered the cup, and started in on a rather strained sounding story about the inheritance of his books, and Alice listened with half-an-ear, feeling confused, and a little hurt.

Was this how it was going to be then? He was going to act like nothing had happened? No thanks, she'd had more then enough of that at home.

"I think I should go," Alice interrupted rudely, but was too tired to care. She put her cup down on it's saucer a little too sharply, and quickly stood, lifting shaky fingers to unbutton his coat, and let it drop from her shoulders to the chair behind her.

The Hatter looked surprised at her sudden intent on leaving his presence, and he set his cup aside as well, and stood.

"Alice?"

"I'm sorry, goodnight," she blurted rapidly, desperate to get to the privacy of her own room and deal with this new dissapointment. She was at the door when a hand reached past her and pushed it shut. Alice drew up short, breath caught in her throat, and then she reached out and pulled at the door knob. The door didn't budge, and neither did the hand stretched out over her shoulder.

"It's never 'goodnight', or 'goodbye'. It's always 'fairfarren', Alice. But please...don't go," Tarrant whispered into the hair above her ear. The almost childish pleading in his voice made her teary-eyed again.

"You...you should finish your tea," he continued in a forced, lighter tone, and she could tell he was trying to smile slightly. "It will help you rest better tonight."

Alice gave her head a small shake, but a strange sensation was taking her over. The way he was standing behind her, the way his breath stirred her hair, tickled the shell of her ear...

_'Fairfarren, Alice...'_

"We've...done this before," Alice murmured. She heard Tarrant catch his breath, and he edged ever-so-closer to her, his warmth cradling her back. His lean jaw brushed her cheek, and the spread, work-roughened fingers of the hand on the door in front of her drew together, his palm taking his weight.

"Yes," Tarrant whispered again, making her shiver. "When last you left. But you are home now, Alice, and I...am so very glad." He chuckled quietly, the deep timbre giving her goosebumps. "Time isn't the same without you here. _I_ am not the same. I feel lost, and quite alone, even with all voices in my head. Yours is the only one that calms the chaos."

Alice felt her face crumple, and with a little sob, she whirled in the tight space, and wrapped her arms around his waist as tightly as she could, fisting her hands in the sleek, warm fabric of his waistcoat. She felt her nose collide with the smooth skin in the opening of his shirt, but was too carried away to care - she could die of embarassment later.

"I'm sorry," she said into his shirt, clutching him.

"Whatever for?" he asked, amused. "I do believe you've apologized for everything already this evening."

Knowing he was teasing her, she huffed, but smiled. She turned her cheek to his skin, and closed her eyes. "I mean, I'm sorry for acting so, I don't know...clingy, so moody, so - "

"Mad?"

"Hm." Alice smirked, unable to take offense.

Tarrant's arms lifted to cradle her in return. "I have no complaints. If there is anything my very humble-self can do to ease your weary heart, I will, and gladly."

"I know. Thank you." Alice nodded, and reluctantly released him. Her eyes zeroed-in on the pale, perfect triangle of his chest, and strong neck as she pulled back, and she actually caught her fingers itching to touch them.

_'Keep throwing yourself at him, and he's going to think you're some kind of creepy pervert!' _Alice castigated herself, stepping back until her heels bumped the door. She imagined what the past Alice's accent must have sounded like. _'No, Alice, you certainly may __**not**__ fondle the Royal Hatter!'_

Hiding a snort, Alice steeled herself to look up into Tarrant's face, and saw him grinning at her, the tiny gap between his teeth making her grin in return.

Stepping back, he bowed, and offered her his arm. "Shall we finish our tea?"

Alice took his arm, content to leave more serious thoughts for later. "Absolutely."

**To be continued**


	6. Chapter 6

**Strange Asylum**

**A/N: **Once again, this chapter needs a WARNING. Please do not continue reading if you are underage! This chapter contains a disturbing theme, so also, please do not read if you are sensitive. Thank you!

**Chapter Six: **Blood On Fire

"_Get OFF of me!"_

The sound of Alice's piercing, early morning scream, brought a sleepy-eyed queen, and no less than six armed knights to her suite door.

One of the knights brought a piked staff up as if to break the large wooden doors down, and Mirana held up an staying hand before smiling tightly and reaching out to twist the handle. The doors swung open, and the knight bowed his head slightly before rushing inside, his comrades behind him.

A lamp still burned at Alice's bedside, and in the dawn light coming through the windows, Mirana, who entered swiftly behind her guards, could see that Alice was alone, her nightmares her only attacker.

Floating over to the poor girl's bedside, she grasped her hand and gave it a gentle shake.

"Alice! Alice, awaken! You are safe!"

The girl in the bed opened her eyes with a gasp, and then sat up, panting. She lifted a hand to her throat, blinking as she caught her breath, and then made a sound of acute dismay as she noticed the knights watching her.

Mirana kindly asked the guards to leave, and they did, after a moments hesitation. When they closed the doors behind them, she turned back to Alice, who was looking hopeless and lost, and on the verge of frustrated tears.

"Oh, dear Alice," Mirana breathed softly, touching a cool hand to Alice's overheated cheek.

Alice's lips trembled, and she gulped loudly. "Oh, God, not again," she half-wailed, turning her face into her pillow.

"_Why won't they stop?"_

Mirana sighed, and rubbed Alice's back soothingly. "Bad dreams again?"

Alice nodded, and then fisted her hands into her pillows so hard they went pale, bloodless. She sat up, making Mirana draw back, and threw the pillows violently across the room. Her eyes were red, bloodshot and wet with tears, her lips drawn back from her teeth in fury.

"God, I hate them!" she snarled, slinging another pillow. "I _hate_ them! I wish they were dead!" she screamed, sitting back on her heels, tearing at her sweat-dampened hair. _"I wish they were dead!"_

Mirana felt her own serene composure cracking as she watched something in Alice finally break. She wasn't entirely certain of what to do - Alice had been having her moments over the past few days, of course, but this...

"Alice - " Mirana tried to say, but the girl was suddenly acting as if she wasn't even there.

_Alice shrieked, sending an elegant bust crashing to the floor. "How could they?" she turned to the wall, screaming again, and again, pounding and slapping, and raking her nails through the painted plaster until they bled._

"How could they?'

Mirana caught her breath, shocked both by Alice's actions, and her unconscious revelation.

One of the knights opened the doors again, and feeling sickened, Mirana shakily waved him away.

She wasn't the one in danger, here.

Alice knew she was going overboard, acting insane, but she thought, as she laughed hysterically at herself, she _was_ kind-of insane, wasn't she?

Feeling exhausted, suddenly, she sobbed, still gasping for air, and slid to the floor in a slump. She let her head hang, and fisted her hands in the pretty, soft white fabric of her nightgown. She didn't have any strength left, but the fury, the pure, undying rage that burned in her chest was still there, making her cry, and rock back and forth in utter frustration.

She knew the queen was still there, sitting quietly, waiting patiently, and Alice drew up her knees and put her forehead on them, hiding in her tangled hair.

"I can't take it anymore," Alice finally said. "My counselor kept telling me I'd start to feel better, my mom kept saying I would forget, that I needed to forgive, and get over it." She laughed bitterly, sniffing. "How can I forgive? How am I supposed to forget when I had to live with them? When I had to grow up with them, and see them every-freaking-day? I was expected to keep my mouth shut, and sit there at that table, eating breakfast, and dinner, and having to look at their disgusting faces, and remember what they did to me? What they thought was okay to do to me, a child?" Alice looked up, distracted.

"It didn't bother them, they didn't care - they didn't even get yelled at! _I _was the one who got called a liar, I was the one who got blamed, all because I was stupid enough to tell my counselor what had happened, just _why_ I was having problems with depression!" She laughed again, and shook her head, staring at the first beams of sunlight creeping down the wall from the window.

"Do you know, the counselor told me anything I said would be kept a secret? I couldn't even trust _her_! She told me she'd have to call the police!" Alice bit her lip, hard. "I almost died! I begged this woman not to call them - my parents would throw me out on the street for sure! She said she wouldn't call the police if I told my parents what had happened. What a stupid cow! She wasn't the one who had to tell them. She made it sound so easy."

"I told my mom. She acted like I was speaking chinese. Told me I was lying. Huh, talk about denial! Funny thing was, she didn't even seem surprised, though. I think she kind of knew, all that time, but told herself it wasn't happening."

Alice looked up at the ceiling, scratching the tip of her nose absently. "My grandfather had abused almost all of us grandkids, it turns out. It's why my two older brothers thought they could do it to me, too. It wasn't their fault, really. They had been victims, too. They weren't mentally competent. Whatever." Alice groaned, and hid her face again.

"I got put on medication, and then life went on as usual. No one ever said anything about it ever again. I was supposed to forget, and act normal, and pretend nothing was wrong. No one ever said they were sorry, and by that time, my nasty grandpa was dying in some nursing home. No one got punished, and nobody cared that I had to eat, live and sleep next to two of the bastards who made it impossible for me to even choose who I got to give my virginity to." Alice curled up on her side, slowly, and vaguely noticed the sound of someone crying - someone who wasn't her.

Drawing in a deep breath, she closed her eyes, and pressed her cheek to the cold floor.

"One day I realized I didn't have one good memory of my brothers. Not one. I was so unhappy at home, and no one cared. I couldn't stand to be around them anymore, not even to have one of them brush against me, to even have to use the same toilet - it disgusted me so much. So I packed up a bag, and I left. I didn't have a place to live, but honest-to-God, I was so much happier living on the streets than I'd ever been at home."

Alice shivered, and then went still. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. She was going to have to leave. Now. There was no way she could stay after this.

There was a shuddering breath, and then another, and she knew somehow that it wasn't Mirana's. That was when her rotten day turned horrific.

Lifting her head, she turned burning, sore eyes toward the door - and wished she could faint dead away when she saw the Hatter standing there, holding his hat in his shaking hands, his face like stone, and his eyes like blood on fire.

She seriously contemplated jumping out the window for a long minute, she really did. She lay on the floor, curled up like a roly-poly bug, and thought about what was worse - making a horrible mess on the terrace below for some poor servant to clean up, or facing Tarrant after he found out just how damaged and messed-up she was.

Alice closed her eyes, unable to look at him anymore. She felt so ashamed she wished she could melt into the floor.

Ha. She'd made a rhyme.

"I'm some great champion, huh?" she asked no one in particular, derisively laughing at herself.

The doors to her room shut with a thunderous slam, startling her, and raking across her ragged nerves.

Mirana dosed Alice with something to calm her - enough to calm her for quite some time, actually - which the poor, stricken girl had been worryingly eager to imbibe. She left her in the care of two competent ladies, and made a beeline for the Hatter's suite with several of her knights behind her.

Mirana's nerves were jumping as she hurried along, wanting to, but trying not to run. The memory of the expression on the Hatter's face as he realized what had happened to Alice - well, it sent chills down her spine. She truly feared for what he might do next.

Arriving at his door, Mirana was not surprised to see that his workshop was almost completely wrecked. Venturing inside, she saw Tarrant standing with his back to her, looking out a window, his claymore fisted at his side. The tip of the huge weapon gouged the floor where it rested, and Mirana bit her cheek as she saw blood running down the blade from where he gripped it so tightly.

"How does one get there from here, I wonder?" he asked suddenly, his voice frighteningly cheerful. "Or, rather, from here to there?"

Mirana clasped her hands together. "You know there is no way."

Tarrant giggled for a disturbing moment. "We live in Underland. There is always a way."

Mirana shook her head. "The blood of the Jabberwocky is gone, Tarrant."

"The lookin' glass, then."

"Destroyed."

Tarrant went very still, and then turned his head to look at her over his shoulder, his eyes burning like coals in his shockingly black sockets. "Ye' lie."

Ordinarily any creature accusing the White Queen of an untruth would instantly be put to death - but Mirana simply lifted a staying hand when her knights would have come charging forward.

"You know it is against my vows to lie," she reminded him gently, but with an underlying edge in her voice.

"I, too thought that perhaps the looking glass was still active, but it is not - not Iracebeth's, anyway. It was destroyed. The glass that Alice came to us through once again is one-way. There is no way to travel though it from here."

Tarrant fully turned to face her, the tip of the claymore making a hideous shriek against the floor as he dragged it with him. His eyes glowed in the darkness of his face, and Mirana knew she would see them in her own nightmares for days to come.

"Do you think I would not go above and wreak the ultimate punishment upon those who harmed her if I could?" she asked him with a furious coldness.

A feral white smirk split his face. "See me there, 'yer highness, an' _I'll _take care of th' punishment."

Mirana simply looked at him. There was naught else to say.

The smirk dropped from the Hatter's lips, and his fierce eyes whirled around the room as he suddenly became violent.

Mirana sighed, distressed, and wounded to the heart. "I did not want to have to do this, Tarrant," she whispered, and slowly began to back away.

The Hatter didn't seem to hear her, and she regretfully gave the lead knight a slight nod.

The knight lifted a small tube to his helmet, and suddenly a tiny dart shot across the room and into the Hatter's neck.

Mirana steeled herself against tears as Tarrant stilled, unable to even lift a hand to his neck before the powerful sedative set in, and he folded, slipping to the floor to lie unmoving even as his claymore clattered deafeningly beside him.

Mirana set her dark lips in a thin line as she reigned in her emotions. She was the queen, expected to remain calm in every situation, and deal with each accordingly...but she had the feeling that this challenge, one where she was forced to watch her closest friends fall apart, just might break her yet.

**To be continued**


	7. Chapter 7

**Strange Asylum**

**A/N: **It's almost complete fluff and nonsense, sorry. My only excuse is too much chocolate (hence my consideration of the chapter title, 'The Chapter that the Rolo's Wrote'), and not enough sunlight. I'm snowed-in here. Apologies - but, hey, if you like it even a little, I'm happy!

**Chapter Seven: **_**There Goes Her Heart**_

Alice never wanted to leave her rooms again.

After the disaster, the guards had come, and boarded up the windows - presumably so she wouldn't try to jump out - so the room was darkened. A small fire burned in the fireplace in the corner, and there were candles and lamps available, but Alice was grateful for the gloom. It suited her mood perfectly.

She wasn't sure how long she'd stayed there, exactly, but she'd kept count of all the meals and teas sent to her door, so she figured she'd been holed-up for the better part of three days.

Alice had dragged a high-backed chair to sit before the fire, and lit a single candle in its stand nearby She sat there now, curled into herself, staring into the flames.

It felt like life was over. It felt like it had to be, because there was no way she could ever face anyone again. She wondered what to do at the same time she told herself there was nothing she _could_ do.

Feeling her scratchy eyes threatening to fill with tears again, Alice pulled up her knees beneath the plain white linen gown and robe she wore, and set her chin on them. The feeling of hopelessness that she was drowning in wasn't an unfamiliar feeling at all. It was like a dreaded relative coming to visit just when you least expected it.

Alice remembered another time when it had felt like the end of the world. Yeah, there were times when you were a kid, and bad things happened, and they scared you so much you thought, "This is it. This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me. Nothing can compare to this."

Sighing shakily, Alice hid her face in her knees. Other then this, the worst day of her life had been the day she'd been forced to tell her parents what her brothers and grandfather had done to her. It had been humiliating, terrifying - but instead of throwing her out into the street as she'd assumed they would, they had completely shut down. Cold, icy denial - and that had been the atmosphere she'd lived in for three years before she broke.

The lack of response had been anti-climactic for sure. It had relieved her at first, but then it made her realize that her parents didn't care. As long as their world wasn't disturbed, anyway, as long as she hid her imperfections.

The night before she'd runaway, she'd been in the kitchen alone, cleaning up dinner dishes at the sink, when her oldest brother came in from taking out the trash. She'd ignored him, listening to a game show on the T.V. in the adjoining living room. That was when he'd brushed his hips up against her, his hands resting loosely on either side of her hips as he 'passed' by.

"Hey, Sweets," he'd muttered, and God, did she _hate_ that nickname.

Hideously uncomfortable, lips curling in absolute disgust, Alice had twisted away from him, and thrown a dirty, infuriated look after him as he'd walked out of the room in apparent unconcern.

Alice stood at the sink, with about three-feet of space between her and the head of the table, and it's chair. Not a lot of space, but more than enough that her brother could have passed by without even touching her.

Just the memory made her stomach lurch. She hadn't had to deal with anything overtly physical from them in years - not since she'd gotten old enough to realize what was happening - but they were always brushing by her, and she had to cover the keyhole and the crack under her bedroom door to keep them from trying to peek in. She'd even caught them lingering outside the bathroom when she'd gone to take showers.

Alice shuddered. It was no wonder she had nightmares.

A knock came at the doors, and after a moment of hesitation, Alice got up and went to open them. It was probably tea, and even though she couldn't stomach the thought of it right now, she wouldn't be rude enough to ignore it when someone had gone to the trouble of preparing it just for her. It wasn't their fault she was on the verge of going crazy.

Unlocking and opening the doors, she was already looking at the floor for the tray when she noticed there wasn't one. There were, however, a pair of shiny black half-boots.

Alice lifted her eyes in confusion, but didn't even make it past her visitor's slim waist before she was wrapped in an embrace so tight it almost hurt.

Her stumbling a little from the force didn't seem to make a difference - the Hatter steadied them both and held her to him as if she'd be taken away.

Alice blinked, and then tried to move away, but he wouldn't let go.

Alice was torn between fighting him in embarassment, and returning the desperate hug.

"I...don't know what to do," she whispered a moment later, her cheeks flaming, heart pounding in panic. She'd never been held quite this way - like she was something precious, but already broken.

It took awhile, but the slender man who held her responded quietly, "Be here, Alice."

"But...I am here." Alice frowned, and Tarrant pulled away. He looked at her solemnly, the marks beneath his bright green eyes bruise-like and dark, as if he hadn't slept in some time.

"Not in here, you aren't," he told her with a slight wince, his fingertip touching the soft gold curls at her temple.

"I see," Alice said sadly, pulling away. She didn't want him to touch her anymore - she felt like she was tainting him in some way.

"I know I'm not the same girl you used to know. I let you down a lot, didn't I? I didn't end up doing anything you expected."

The Hatter shook his head. "No, you are absolutely the same Alice, and I'd know him anywhere," he said so gently that Alice didn't have the heart to correct him.

"I'm really not. I couldn't be."

"But you are."

"The real Alice - the _true_ Alice - something _that _ugly wouldn't have happened to her. I've seen drawings of her. She was beautiful."

Tarrant looked down at her with gold streaking into his eyes. It would have been pretty if Alice didn't know the color preceeded an abrupt and sometimes violent change of mood.

"_You_ are beautiful. An' bad thin's can happen to anyone," he said with a slight growl in his voice. "We are no better, or worse, than anyone else."

Alice caught the 'we'. "What do you mean? Something...bad happened to you?"

Tarrant's expression went completely blank, and his large eyes became unfocused.

"Hatter? Tarrant?" Alive ventured quietly.

"My clan," he finally answered. He blinked, moved his head, as if trying to shake something off. "T'was...the Jabberwocky. The Red Queen's pet...and her lover, Stayne, the Knave of Hearts. They attacked us during celebration."

Alice watched him with growing concern. "You were hurt?"

He blinked again, and suddenly laughed. It was not a joyous sound. "Nay. Naught a scratch."

"Someone you...loved, then?"

Tarrant looked down at her, the red of his madness bleeding from his pupils. "Nay. Not just one. _All_ of them."

Alice caught her breath. "All of them? You lost your whole family?"

"Aye. The whole of the clan Hightopp. I be th' last."

Alice didn't know what to say. "I'm so sorry, Tarrant."

The Hatter narrowed his eyes suddenly. "Sorry for what?" he asked darkly.

Alice looked at him, confused for an instant, before shaking her head. "Nothing."

Walking away from her, she watched as he stopped in the gloom before the windows. He looked up at them, tall and blocked up, and then dropped his head.

"When you arrived this time, I had hoped that you would manage better...but you tried to escape, didn't you?" he asked quietly.

Alice frowned. "No. I'm not a prisoner, here - Mirana said so."

The Hatter turned on her suddenly, his face hidden in shadow. "There are different ways of escaping."

Her breath felt knocked from her chest. She swallowed, and then gave a shaky sigh.

"I...thought about it," Alice admitted.

"Please don't," he asked her softly, suddenly sounding very young and frightened.

"I was afraid of seeing you again," she explained reluctantly. Walking over to the bed, she wrapped her hands around one of the carved posts and hung on it, resting her forehead against it. "I - I was so ashamed. I didn't want you to know."

Alice heard him move, and felt him come to stand behind her before there was a rustle of cloth, and he shoved his hand and wrist into her line of vision. The light was dim, but she could tell he'd unbuttoned his cuff and pushed his sleeves up his arm.

"I didn't want you to know, either," he whispered over her shoulder, and Alice stilled a shiver before hesitantly taking his bare forearm in her hands and looking closely.

His arm was pale white, but lean, and clearly strong - she traced a finger over the hard muscles, and then turned it slightly to to look at the inside, and then gasped. There was a long, raised, plum-colored scar running from the crease of his wrist all the way to his inner-elbow. It was thick and wide, a puffy, irregular-shaped mass that didn't look like it was from a cut, or a burn.

"What happened?" she found herself asking breathlessly, horrified.

"Sorrows too long dwelled upon. I tried to escape," he murmured with a shrug, and then added matter-of-factly, "I have often wished myself dead since I went mad. Hmph_. _Mad, _sick, loony as a pair of loony lunatics - "_

"God, Tarrant, what did you do?"

"Poisoned needle," he said calmly, withdrawing his arm as pushing the sleeve back down. "It did hurt quite a bit."

"You poisoned yourself?" Alice's chest hurt as she turned back to look at him, watching with blurring eyes as he pulled his glove back on and buttoned his cuffs.

"Oh, Hatter."

"Chessur found me, and Mirana saved me. Absolem reminded me. It turned out that I did have reason to live." Tarrant raised his eyes to hers. "I waited for you...and eventually you did come back."

"And you knew I'd come back _again_." Alice offered him a trembling half-smile, embarassed, but unable to stop the hot tears from spilling over.

"Well, you promised that you would."

Alice wiped her hand across her eyes. "I'm so glad you didn't escape."

"Oh, but Alice, you're _crying_!" He stepped quickly toward her in distress.

"It seems like all I do these days." Alice put a hand on his chest, surprised again at how solid he felt. She ran a thumb across an embossed button on his jacket, and then realized she was indeed fondling him, and dropped her hand, hiding it behind her back like a child.

Tarrant gave her a crooked, soft smile that melted her knees.

"I'm so sorry about everything, Tarrant. You have no idea how hard it is to think of you being hurt in any way. The fact that I can't stand to be around my family, but they're still alive, and you still mourn the loss of yours - it makes me want to cry even more."

"You...pity me." Tarrant said lowly.

Alice rubbed a stray tear from the corner of her eye and sniffed. "No way. It's not pity."

He looked over at her slowly, surprised. "It's not?"

Alice snorted. "No. I - it's just that I think...I think I hurt for you. Is that right?" Sniffing again she wiped another tear on her sleeve. "I don't feel sorry for you. I mean, I _am_ sorry, but...sorry, I guess I'm not making any sense at all, am I?"

Tarrant sighed, but it wasn't a sad sound. "No...but I understand."

Alice looked up at him and ran a knuckle under her now dripping nose, chuckling ruefully. "Yeah, I guess _you_ would."

There was a rustle of fabric, and then a square of turquoise paisley drifted in front of her nose.

Alice knew from its texture it was silk, and she didn't want to ruin it, but she also knew she'd offend the Hatter if she didn't take it, so she pinched an edge and slowly pulled the fabric from between his battered and be-thimbled fingers. "Thank you," she said as she gave the tip of nose a quick swipe.

"Please," Tarrant bowed a little, and winked. _"Keep it."_

Alice giggled, and folded the handkerchief into her cuff. She looked back at him, and then cringed as she recalled their discussion, and couldn't help asking, "So...you aren't disgusted by me? Now that you know...everything?"

"Now, now, leave off that!" Tarrant's eyes glinted in the firelight, and he reached out to take her upper arms in his, then sliding them down until he chased out her hands. "Alice, my dear friend. Of course I'm not!"

Alice squeezed his hands gratefully. "I wish I could just forget. I wish it had never happened. I'd give anything - "

"Alice, if one feels obliged, one can break or even _kill_ Time in Underland, which is awfully handy because it's always running out, but you can't turn him back anywhere." Tarrant interrupted, and then shook his head. "What I mean to say, is what's done cannot be undone."

"Why did 'what's done' have to happen in the first place?" Alice complained angrily, not caring if she made no sense.

"I often ask the same question myself," the Hatter told her matter-of-factly. "Don't try to make sense of it - it will only make you mad, and being mad, as in _angry_, on top of being mad, as in _crazy_, just leads to utter _insanity_ - "

"Hatter."

He blinked at her. "I'm fine. Thank you. Er...what was I saying?"

Alice sighed. "I can't change what's been done."

"Yes, you can't. But Alice mine, you _can_ do something else."

She watched him, desperate to hear an alternative. "What?"

"Instead of remembering them...you can always think of me."

Alice clenched her jaw a little, trying not to cry again, and looked down at their hands, still holding tight onto each other, almost like they were afraid to let go.

"Oh!" The Hatter had looked down too, and jumped, letting go guiltily.

"It's okay," Alice told him, feeling lost without his warmth. "I think I was the one holding onto you."

"You can hold onto me," he said in his friendly lisp, the tiny gap in his teeth flashing adorably. The dark pupil of his vivid left eye contracted and expanded while the right remained still, and Alice couldn't help but laugh at how he could look maniacal and yet so sweet at the same time.

The Hatter obviously had no idea why she was suddenly laughing, but he didn't have any reservations about giggling madly along with her, which made her laugh even harder. His laughter was genuine and quite infectious.

Alice cackled breathlessly, both hands pressed into her aching stomach. "I don't even know why I'm laughing!"

Tarrant gave a cackle of his own. "Perhaps you've lost your mind!"

Alice rolled her eyes, and pushed her hair back from flushed cheeks. "Oh, no, I think I lost that a long time ago, along with my pride, apparently."

"Yes, Underland tends to have that effect on some people..." he frowned distantly, "along with cafeteria food."

"What?"

"Nevermind that...but it does seem as though you're finally remembering something!"

Alice frowned, thinking hard. "Um...something about trying to stuff a grumpy mouse in a cracked teapot? Or was it trying to stuff a cracked mouse into a grumpy teapot?"

The Hatter snorted in laughter, and that was enough to set Alice off again.

Finally, after several minutes of trying to quiet down, and unable to think of anything to say, Alice looked down and blurted stupidly, "My feet are freezing."

The Hatter looked down, too, and then simply picked her up, walked over, and gently deposited her in the chair before the fire again. He knelt down on one knee to tuck the edges of her long gown around her bare feet, and then chafed them with his hands to warm them.

He glanced back at her hesitantly from beneath the dark rim of his hat, it's embroidered salmon pink sash trailing over his shoulder.

"Still chilled?" he asked in concern when he caught her staring.

Unable to help herself, Alice took a deep breath and reached out to remove his hat from his head. She set it gently on the wide, rolled arm of the chair, and then hesitantly reached to rub the end of a lock of his wild hair between her fingertips. She moved slowly, so as not to startle him, but he didn't appear to be bothered, only curious. She took her time discovering its texture. It was odd, but his hair was as warm as its fiery color suggested, almost as if it was alive, all on its own.

"You have pretty hair," she commented.

Tarrant's expressive eyebrows lifted slightly. "I...do?" He sounded surprised.

"Sorry, I mean 'handsome'. Men aren't pretty, they're handsome. I always forget that. Anyway, I've never seen anything like it."

"I-it was longer once," he offered hesitantly, his face tilting down toward hers a little. "And not quite such a violent shade."

"It was?"

"Mm," he nodded distractedly, his frosty lashes dropping low as she carefully ran her fingers through his hair.

"I wish I could have seen it."

Alice felt her heartbeat pick-up speed as Tarrant's face tilted toward her. Unable to resist, she smoothed her fingers through another wild patch of his hair before she suddenly realized it was changing almost before her eyes.

Fascinated, Alice leaned closer, staring as the strand of coarse, soft hair trailing through her fingertips subtly changed color and texture, becoming less orange, and more auburn, a glossy sheen relaxing the fluff into a longer, sleek curl.

"Wow," Alice breathed, amazed as she fingered another fluffy piece at his nape, and the magical change occurred again. She ran her fingers down its thick, shiny length, her knuckles inadvertently brushing along the smoothness of his neck.

Tarrant inhaled quickly, and his eyes flew open, their color a startling pale seafoam rimmed in a ring of darkest evergreen.

Alice's eyes widened, her hand automatically clutching his warm nape in surprise as he suddenly grabbed her around the waist and dragged her to the edge of the chair against him, his own hand lifting to cup her jawline as he closed the space between their faces and...kissed her.

Alice was so startled she barely felt the smooth warmth of his lips on hers before he sighed and backed away.

The Hatter was rising to his feet when the candle chose that exact moment to gutter out.

Alice sat forward in the chair, realizing she could barely see - the fire had burned down to little more than red coals in the grate.

"Hatter?" she whispered, breathless, heart slamming against her ribs. "Why did you stop?"

"Oh, Alice. You're so young," he said from near the doorway in a clear, solemn voice she barely recognized.

"Yeah, right, and you're obviously ancient," she retorted, feeling annoyed and oddly frustrated. She reached up with a trembling hand to touch her lips, and suddenly couldn't get the obsessive need to feel his again out of her mind.

"I don't know how old I am, truthfully. I don't even know if I'm real. I've never thought about it. Huh."

"What's your point, Tarrant?"

"You won't stay forever, Alice. I've always known that. Everytime. You're always young, you always heal, and you always leave...and you always forget."

"But I won't, I'm not leaving - "

"_**Yer' bum's oot th' windae!"**_ The Hatter snapped loudly in his rough accent, and then slapped his hands over his mouth. "Sorry," he whispered. "I meant - "

Alice bit her lip. "I think I can tell what you meant," she told him wryly. "But what I said is true. I'm not leaving, and I'm not bull-shitting you, either."

The Hatter gave a mad, merry chuckle, but sobered quickly, shaking a finger at her. "Naughty, Alice-mine."

Alice looked back at him stonily. "I'm NOT leaving."

"You can't promise that, darling, and I don't want you to. You have to be free to do what you wish."

"I _want_ to stay here! Are you trying to make me leave?"

"Of course not! Alice, I lose a bit of myself everytime you go, and I don't care!" He put his head in his hands, and shook it violently. _"Ah...ma' heid's mince! I doona' question anythin', I jus' wai'. Ah'm always waitin'! Nay matter wha' happens, tha's oonly ever what'll be doin'!"_

Alice stood up from the chair with clenched fists. "You don't _have_ to wait, I'm right here! There's no way I'm leaving - this is the only place that's ever felt like home to me."

"Alice - "

She stalked toward him in the gloom, barely making out his shadow. "And you're the only one I've ever felt like myself with! I never knew what that felt like before I came here."

Alice stopped before him and looked up at him, at his eyes catching the dying ember-light. She pulled his hands away from his head, and looked at the poor battered things before laying a kiss on each knuckle in-turn. She ignored his quiet gasp, and held them to her cheeks.

"You're so special to me, Tarrant. You're gentle, and kind, and the best friend I've ever had. You make me feel things I didn't think were possible for me. Please believe me...I'll _never _go away from you again."

The Hatter made a low, pained sound, and he pulled his hands from hers. He turned and his hands scrabbled for the doors.

"I_...'ah hav'ta think," _he growled quickly, and then yanked the doors open and escaped out them like he was being chased by hellhounds.

Alice stared after him into the darkened hall, and then gently closed the doors again. She shuffled over to the chair, and saw Tarrant's hat still resting there.

Sitting with an exhausted thump, Alice took the hat in her hands and carefully stroked its delicate feather. She admired the elegant hatpins tucked into it, but steered clear of touching them, recalling what Chessur had mentioned to her over her first tea in Underland, "Don't worry about him, he's only a _bit_ mad - but watch out, he's quite fond of poking pins in one's eye when he's feeling harassed."

Smiling, Alice arranged the trailing ends of the sash over her knees, and held it by it's brim, picturing it's troubled owner. She watched it as the embers in the grate died out completely, leaving her in darkness, and then rested her head against the back of the chair and closed her aching eyes.

_"Fairfarren, Tarrant."_

_Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;_

_Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;_

_Thy fate is the common fate of all,_

_Into each life some rain must fall,_

_Some days must be dark and dreary._

_**-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (The Rainy Day)**_

_**To be continued...**_


	8. Chapter 8

**Strange Asylum**

_Chapter Eight: The Evils of Fashion_

Alice was groaning to herself the next morning when there was a sharp tap on the doors, and in swept Mirana, looking as perfect as ever.

Mirana stopped above the chair where Alice was curled up, and peered down at her with a concerned look.

"Alice, dearest, you look terribly uncomfortable," the White Queen chirped, offering a delicate white hand to help her sit up.

Alice groaned again, but managed to untangle herself and take the queen's offering. She held the cool hand before her and tugged herself into an upright position, wincing at the crick in her neck and ache in her back. "Thanks."

Mirana took a step back and regarded her curiously. "Did you spend the whole night in the chair, Alice?"

Alice stretched her legs and whimpered. "Feels like it."

"Hmph." Mirana frowned. "I see Tarrant has been to visit." She nodded at the hat on the floor beside the chair.

Alice glanced down and grimaced. "Yes."

"He wasn't unkind to you?"

"Oh, no, he just...we kind of had a disagreement."

"Forgive me, I don't mean to pry - "

"He thinks I'd go back," Alice told her abruptly. "He actually thinks I'd go back to _that_ place instead of staying here."

Mirana went still, looking at Alice attentively. "You do not intend to...return?"

Alice looked at her incredulously. "No way. I hate it there. I - I don't _have_ to go back, do I?"

"Goodness, no. I just assumed - well, we all know that old saying, do we not? Come, let us ready you for tea. Perhaps this day will improve with company, hmm?" Mirana smiled sweetly, and gestured behind her, a flock of maids scurrying into the room. They worked quickly, stoking the fire, re-opening the windows, and practically man-handling Alice from the chair and into a fresh white linen gown with blue ribbons gathering the cap sleeves, and the high empire waist. Blue slippers went onto her feet, and her hair was gathered into a loose grecian-style atop her head, and secured with more blue ribbons and pearl clips.

By the time she collected Tarrant's hat and followed Mirana and her entourage outside to the gardens for tea, Alice felt like Cinderella. The maids had been like the little birds and mice from the movie, with all their humming and prodding, swooping and tittering.

The sunlight on her skin felt wonderful, Alice had to admit, and the air was fresh and sweet. She was beginning to feel a lot better when the procession finally reached the long table - and she realized that though the table was full of familiar faces - the Hatter was nowhere to be seen.

"Oh," Mirana murmured next to her, and Alice's newfound elation crashed. She curled her fingers tightly around the hat brim and sat down in the grass right where she stood with a deflated thump.

"Well, isn't that a son-of-a-bitch."

It was so stupid, Alice thought a week later. It was so stupid to hope so much to see a guy. It was a waste of time. It was like being in high school again, sneaking looks around corners, pretending not care - it was exhausting. Not to mention she felt like a stalker. One day, just to be near him, she had left his hat on the table in the clearing and hid in the foilage for what felt like hours just to watch Chessur pop into view and retrieve it with a delighted grin before disappearing.

After spitting out every nasty word she knew in frustration, she'd given up and walked back to the castle in a dismal mood, only to peer over a tall hedge in the gardens and see a scowling Tarrant swiping his hat from the floating cat's head.

Other than that, the Hatter hadn't been around much, and he hadn't been to see Alice at all. It was nerve-wracking. She knew he didn't dislike her for her recent past, but rather for something she couldn't even remember.

Today, pausing before a great, silver-gilded mirror outside the castle library, Alice looked at herself and shook her head. The ivory victorian skirt and bustle she wore was incredibly beautiful, with all its delicate drapes and folds, and tucks. The sleeveless cornflower-blue corset top she wore was laced down the sides with ivory ribbons, and showed off her breasts to perfection - but what did it matter? It was annoying, and hot, and it hurt. Her hair was gleaming and done up with ivory feathers, but she still felt like a mess.

Alice reached up and yanked the pins and decorations out of her hair, and then grabbed a shank of her long, tumbling blonde hair and sneered at her reflection.

"You were an idiot, Alice," she muttered at her past-self loathingly, her nose touching the mirror. She gave her hair a sharp yank. "Pretty and stupid. Freaking Ice-Queen."

_'You look quite unattractive like that. Ill-mannered commoner,' _a cultured, distant voice snapped back.

Alice pressed her palms against the mirror, uncaring of any smudges she might leave on the surface, and leaned in glaring into her own eyes. "Shut-up, he was your best friend, you dumb cow!"

_'He was, and so he deserved more than what I was capable of giving at the time,' _the past Alice countered.

"He _loved_ you." Alice saw her lips tremble, and pushed back a sickening rush of jealousy.

_'I know. He did. I was not ready for that with him.'_

"And you never came back! You promised!"

_'I did. __**You**__ did.'_

Alice stared sightlessly into the mirror. "But he doesn't _love_ me - "

_'You are me, you silly twit - and remove that awful corset before you pinch us to death.'_

Alice snorted, standing back and lowering her hands to her sides. "Hardly."

"Who are you talking to?"

"Myself!" Alice snapped, turning, and then realized the Cheshire cat was floating in front of her, peering at her intently.

"Sorry."

"Feeling troubled, m'dear?" the cat purred, diving and drifting in a lazy circle.

Alice shook her head, suddenly feeling distant and twitchy. She _really_ missed her medicine. "Brain shivers," she muttered. "It's probably withdrawl."

"Oh? Would the Hatter happen to be involved?"

Alice glared at him, irritated. "Why would you think that? Anyway, I'm just going quietly insane."

"Quietly, dearest?" the cat repeated doubtfully, looking her up and down.

Alice frowned. "Well, sorry! I'll try to lose my mind with more calm and dignity - it's just that I wasn't re-incarnated british!"

"Pity," Chessur drawled, and Alice ground her teeth.

"Have you seen Tarrant around?"

"I wouldn't be expecting him anytime soon," Chess said doubtfully, his expression troubled.

"Why?" Alice asked, taking an unconscious step forward in alarm.

The large cat's eyes flicked from one side to the other, and then he sighed and motioned for her to follow. He began drifting down the corridor, and Alice followed, cautiously.

Hatter was at the long tea-table in the clearing, seemingly having a wonderful time drinking tea - by himself. He looked disheveled, his coat open, waistcoat nowhere to be seen, his cravat discarded over the back of a chair.

Her heart was soaring at the sight of him, but watching him carry on an animated discussion with her chair made her anxious. She was too far away to hear anything he said, but he looked so happy it almost broke her heart.

Alice swallowed, and whispered, "Oh. He really is totally bonkers, huh?"

Cheshire looked at her with a lifted brow. "Quite," he said drolly, and then sniffed. "Of course, there _is_ a Funny Breeze in the air today. Smells positively hysterical."

She ignored him. "Maybe I should talk to him." Alice licked her lips nervously.

Cheshire harrumphed, and floated back. "I'll leave you to him then."

Alice glowered at him. "You aren't coming?"

"Dearest Alice, I have already tried - and almost lost my head for my trouble. Even here, one can have one's fill of crazy for the day." The cat disappeared until only his head was visible, and then nodded towards the Hatter. "Do you not see yonder blade?"

Alice looked back at the table, and there it was - an impossibly long sword, leaning up against the table next to the Hatter's seat. It looked wickedly sharp, and glimmered in the sunlight.

Alice gulped. "Oh, well, maybe - " she glanced over at the cat only to find him completely gone.

Narrowing her eyes, Alice pouted. "Pussy," she muttered crossly, and a disembodied, _very_ offended huff was her only answer.

Alice stayed crouched behind a tree for a few moments more before she resolutely straightened and slowly approached the clearing. She held the folds of her full ivory skirt tight in her knit gloved hands, and stepped up to the table, her lungs protesting the ribbon stays of her corset.

The Hatter was quiet now, his head tilted down, hat tipped low. She couldn't see his face, and she felt a quiver begin in the pit of her stomach. She didn't understand it. She couldn't be _that_ scared of him, could she?

"Tarrant?" she squeaked out, forcing herself to take another step forward.

The Hatter remained silent and still.

"You might scare me sometimes, you know, but you can't scare me away."

Alice took a chance and moved slowly around the table, taking small steps, and hiding behind the chairs until she reached hers. She stood beside it, thighs pressed against the arm, and leaned on crossed arms on the top of it, trying to look as if she wasn't shaking down to her pinkie-toes.

"Please talk to me," Alice pleaded after a few tense moments. "You're ignoring me, and it hurts."

The brim of his hat lifted, just slightly. Alice ducked her head a little, and saw him staring at the teacup in his gloved hand. A muscle twitched in his lean, shadowed jaw, and there was a flicker of frosty lashes against red-tinged eyes before he suddenly stood and turned on her, knocking over his heavy chair in the process.

Alice wasn't ashamed to admit she almost wet her knickers - or whatever they were called. She gasped and stumbled back, stepping on the back of her skirt and falling flat on her back. Her head bounced against the ground, and she saw stars for a second before felt a weight descending on her. Blinking away the fuzz, she opened her eyes to see his directly in front of hers.

Alice froze, her breath catching in her throat. "Tarrant!"

Snapping the hat from his head and tossing it carelessly on the lawn beside them, Tarrant straddled her, his knees pinning her down on either side of her hips. His head was lowered directly over hers, and she could see the red veins streaking through the vivid green of his eyes. The corners of his full lips curled at the corners - it wasn't a nice smile.

Alice trembled, but lifted her hands to gingerly touch his shirt.

"What do I have to do to make you believe I'm not going anywhere?"

The mad smile only grew wider, and the colors in his eyes swirled like a kaliedoscope against the paleness of his skin.

Alice could only study him in the silence. His hair was as wild as ever, save for the few locks she'd carressed that night in her room. They were still laying long and soft over his shoulder, making his hair look a little lopsided, like he'd had a bad haircut.

Alice raised her hands to his hair, starting at his forehead, and slid her fingers through the coarse orange mass.

Tarrant started a little, losing his smile, and Alice shushed him, using one hand to close his eyes before she started stroking his hair in earnest. She suddenly felt calmer than she had in days. She didn't even mind when old Alice's accent made a vague appearance.

"Quiet now, Hatter," she murmured, running her fingertips along his scalp. "Oh, I've made an awful mess of you, haven't I?"

By the time Alice had finished, the Hatter's head was hanging low, almost touching her shoulder. His hair was a long, gleaming pile of red-orange on her chest, and the soft curls were tickling her chin and lips.

Alice closed her eyes and listened to his even breathing - it was so quiet in the clearing, as if even the birds didn't dare disturb his moment of peace.

"I - words escape me," he whispered a while later, lifting his head slowly. He looked at her in wonder, all the chaos gone from his bright green eyes. His tamed hair fell in waves around his face. He looked like her gentle, sweet Hatter again, and Alice couldn't help smiling - and then bursting into tears at the realization of just how fragile he was.

"Oh, Alice," Tarrant said regretfully, and gathered her into his arms. "Alice, every time I think I've gone completely around the bend, you bring me back."

"Mine," Alice sniffed, choking back a sob as she buried her forehead in his chest.

"Pardon?" he chirped, sounding confused.

"Call me Alice-mine," Alice whispered.

Tarrant's heart skipped a beat against her cheek, and she lifted her head to look at him. He met her gaze straight-on, but his cheeks were flushed bright pink, his lips open in surprise.

Alice put her fingertips on either side of his sharp jaw-line. "Please."

Tarrant blinked, and shifted her in his arms. "Alice...mine."

Alice broke out in a huge, goofy smile, and kissed his smooth cheek. "Thank you."

Nose to nose, they looked at each other, and then Alice lowered her eyes, embarrassed.

"Please...do it again," he asked with a quiet yearning.

Alice's eyes flew wide, and she looked back up at him. "What?"

Apparently unable to speak due to crippling shyness, he lifted a shaky hand to the spot on his cheek she'd just kissed.

Alice grabbed his hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. When he looked slightly disappointed, she brushed her lips over his cheek again, lingering a little, and then sat back, out of breath.

"Get me out of this corset," she gasped, and then had to hold back laughter as he looked down at her heaving chest in genuine panic.

"I...don't know why I let them put it on me - I can't breathe!" Alice blurted, already tugging at the laces on one side, but only succeeding in tangling them into knots.

The Hatter stared at her, looking at the corset with a thoughtful frown, and then suddenly dumped her out of his lap.

Alice groaned, and then looked up as he pulled a tiny pair of scissors out of nowhere.

"Hold verra' still," he said sternly, and then with two impossibly fast snips, had the whole corset off.

Alice dragged in a deep breath of relief. "Oh, wow, that's so much better! Thank...you?"

Looking back at the Hatter, she trailed off as she realized he was staring at her chest, now encased only in a sheer, slightly wrinkled white linen undergarment. It was a bit damp from sweat, she noticed, and you could definitely make out the shape of the breasts and pink nipples underneath -

"Oh, God!" Alice choked, and threw an arm over her chest.

The Hatter, still holding her corset top dangling in one hand, snapped to attention and hid it behind his back, almost guiltily. The tiny scissors disappeared again, and he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Ahem! Pardon!" he coughed, and placed two fingers over his mouth. He tapped his fingers on his lips, looking at the grass, the table, the sky - before slowly bringing his eyes back to hers.

Alice's heart raced painfully. What would she do if he tried something? Oh, God, what would she do if he _didn't?_

Tarrant stayed quiet, and watched as a cool breeze picked up, and lifted the ends of his hair.

"Corsets don't suit me, I'm afraid," Alice found herself murmuring, and she suddenly had a flash of memory - something about a codfish?

"One of the evils of fashion," Tarrant agreed, and then began shrugging out of his coat. He held the garment out to her, and Alice stood and hesitantly took it, before turning away in both relief and disappointment, and sliding into it. She considered leaving it unbuttoned, but the smell and feel of it on her and around her made her nipples extremely sensitive, so she buttoned the top three to be safe, and turned back to Tarrant with a rueful smile.

"How do I look?" she asked playfully.

Tarrant blinked. "Oh...erm, lovely."

Alice knew he was fibbing but smiled anyway. "Thank you. I guess I'd better go back and find something else to wear. Can I bring your jacket back in a little bit?"

"Of course."

Alice nodded, and turned away to head back to the castle. Then she stopped and looked back at the Hatter, who was watching her go with a somewhat forlorn expression on his face.

Smirking mischeviously, Alice said, " By the way - I really like your shirt."

Tarrant frowned, then looked down at his snowy white shirt-front. His wild eyebrows flew up when he saw that it was a bit sweat-dampened as well - and his nipples were clearly hard, too, probably from the breeze. His lace-cuffed hands flew up to cover them.

Alice barely made it back to the castle before she couldn't hold it in any more and snorted, laughing uncontrollably. A few minutes later, two of the queen's ladies happened across her, and tittered kindly about the 'poor mad lass' before escorting her, still giggling, back to her rooms.

To be continued


	9. Chapter 9

**Strange Asylum**

A/N: I think this was the hardest chapter I've ever written! I'm still not certain of it - it's either my favorite or my worst. I love and hate it. Good or bad, a lot went into this one. At any rate, to those who've been so kindly asking, yes, this fic _will_ be finished. I can't promise it'll be done tomorrow, but it _will_ be completed in the near future.

**Chapter Nine:** The Time Comes

Alice returned to the clearing some time later, now dressed in a long, simple ivory gown with a straight skirt that fell to her feet, and sheer ivory sleeves with decorative floral embroidery around the wrists and upper arms. There was an open, sheer overskirt, and a dual band of sky-blue ribbon criss-crossing the bodice from waist to shoulder. Her hair was gathered in a loose ponytail over one shoulder, and she wore a light, soft blue tasseled scarf around her neck.

Feeling much better, Alice trotted up to the table carrying Tarrant's freshly brushed jacket, a huge smile on her face - only to find her friend silent.

The Hatter was asleep, the first time she could ever recall seeing him so. Alice lay his folded jacket over the chair beside him, and then quietly sat down opposite him. She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands, and her elbows on the table so she could study him at her leisure. She couldn't see his closed eyes under the dipped brim of his hat, but she could see the smooth slope of his nose, the slight frowning pout of his lips as his chin rested in the fullness of his cravat. She could even make out the slight creases of his dimples in his cheeks. His hands were crossed, resting over his chest protectively, as if he was afraid of losing his heart. His hands, the poor things. Worn, and scarred, and stained by the same toxic chemicals that had helped along his madness. His fingernail beds were an unhealthy pale white, with deep plum eating up the roughened cuticles and fingertips. It was no wonder he kept his fingers so wrapped up - they probably snagged on everything.

Alice watched him for a long time before he abruptly woke, jerking forward in his seat in alarm. She held up a hand and waved at him until she got his attention.

"Hi. I brought your coat back."

Tarrant relaxed when he saw her there, his eyelids drooping.

"Are you okay?"

"Shhh," he whispered sleepily, and gave her a loopy wave. "The teacups are _listening_!"

Alice didn't know what to say to that, and simply nodded. She got up and moved around the table to take her usual seat beside him. Her elbow brushed his, and Tarrant covered his lips with his fingers, only semi-smothering a high-pitched, nervous, "Tee-hee!" that tickled Alice.

"Tarrant, _what_ did you put in your tea?" Alice wondered aloud with a laugh, picking up and observing his teacup suspisciously. She sniffed. "Is that honey?"

"Honey?"

"You know, from bees?" Alice put his cup down and picked up a small scone.

Tarrant looked confused for a moment before he blinked and announced, "Oh, no, you must mean _Horney_."

Alice choked on her bite, and upset her teacup in its saucer as she coughed convulsively.

Beside her, Tarrant twiddled his thumbs anxiously for a moment, and then leaned over to whisper with a ridiculously goosebump-inducing lisp, "Ahem, Alice...are you quite alright? Alice? You - you aren't wearing a corset again, are you?"

The scone went down, but Alice laughed at his question and choked again, her eyes watering pitifully as she tried to stop coughing and laughing and catch her breath.

"What is 'Horney'?" she gasped out a few moments later. She had the feeling it didn't mean what she suspected. "Is it like sugar? Syrup?"

Tarrant thought for a moment. "Oh, well...it _could_ be used to sweeten tea, I suppose, but I can't imagine why you would use it in such a manner. It does have a reputation of making folk behave quite scandalously!"

Alice could just bet. "Where does it come from?"

Tarrant's smile was completely free of guile. "Why, Horney bees, of course!"

"You mean, bees with horns," Alice replied dryly, nodding to herself.

"Well, yes." Tarrant smirked a little, and she wondered if he was even aware of the sudden change in his expression. "Whatever else would it mean?"

Alice wisely remained silent, but she could well imagine. It might be a good time to change subjects.

Obligingly, Tarrant's attention soon shifted to other things, and they had a quiet chat about the table and its offerings. When the subject had been exhausted, Alice searched her mind for a another until she remembered his hands.

"Tarrant?"

"Hmm?"

"May I?" Alice carefully took the hand resting on the chair arm next to her and nodded at the unraveling knot on his forefinger.

"The bandages? Oh, I'll take care of them. I don't mind," he said brightly, removing his hand from hers. "They all need changing, anyway."

Alice nodded, a little hurt at his gentle refusal, and watched as he began removing them.

"They never do quite heal, you know," Tarrant told her then, almost as an afterthought. He unwrapped the last grubby linen bandage and popped his everpresent thimbles into the coat pocket hanging next to him. He sighed and held his surprisingly steady hands out before them for her to study.

"Why not?" Alice asked, resisting the urge to touch them. They were so much worse than she'd thought.

The Hatter shrugged, and fumbled a hand in another pocket to fetch something, only to pull it out with a loud yelp, and a new bloody wound on his thumb.

Alice made a face at his bewildered expression. As a hatter, he probably had an arsenal of all sorts of sharp things in his pockets. "Never mind." She gently grabbed his hand and gave it a pitying once-over.

"Ouch." She tugged on her scarf and used her teeth to rip off a small piece and wrap it around the fresh wound. After she tied it off in a tiny knot, she automatically went to kiss it better, and instead found herself kissing air as he violently ripped his hand from hers.

Alice looked up in shock as Tarrant leaned away, a look of terror on his face.

"I-I'm sorry - " Alice began to stutter, but he shook his head violently, scooting away even further, and hiding his hand behind his back. He almost knocked over his chair. One of his eyes gave an odd twitch, and his lips opened and closed like a fish.

"Tarrant - "

"I'm fine," he finally said in a small voice, and produced a length of clean linen from somewhere. With quick movements, he twisted the cloth neatly around his fingertips and made tiny knots with his teeth. They were much tidier than hers, Alice noted morosely.

"What did I do?" she asked quietly.

Tarrant slowly lowered his hands, but didn't look at her. He shook his head and cleared his throat. "It's nothing. It's just...there is so much of me that is poison. You really mustn't taste my blood, even a bit."

Alice thought that was a lot of nonsense, but nodded. "Understood, I guess."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. It's my fault. I'm too touchy-feely when it comes to you for some reason. I never stop to think that maybe you don't want me invading your personal space all the time."

"No, it's not that...I've hurt you." He made a move as if to rise.

"No, I'm fine, I promise." Alice protested. "Don't go."

"I'm sorry," he apologized again. He stood, and walked around his chair, making as if to leave, and Alice moaned in frustration.

"Hatter, I thought we'd gotten past this. God, you are so inconsistent! Sit!"

At that, Tarrant's spine straightened a bit, and he stopped mid-stride to narrow his eyes at her, something he'd never done.

"_No."_

Alice closed her eyes, stricken by the fact she'd insulted him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I snapped at you. I'm the last person who should call anyone else inconsistent. I _really_ am sorry. Please, sit?"

Tarrant's lips were still pressed tightly together, but he came back and sat down next to her - stiffly.

"Don't be angry with me."

Tarrant let out a deep sigh and turned his head to look at her. "I'm not angry, Alice. I...it's just that you are so very different, sometimes. I never know what to expect from you, abruptness, or tears. It can be quite frustrating. Much like I can be, I suppose."

Alice swallowed. She knew his words weren't meant to be hurtful, but they were.

"I told you before, I'm not the same Alice, Tarrant." Alice stared at the tablecloth before her, trying to force back tears without the tell-tale blinking. The burning stung her eyes, and made her throat ache.

"You are. You _are_ her, you're just...perhaps, a bit more emotional."

Alice gave a small laugh. "Screwed up, you mean."

"Frustrated. You exhaust yourself trying to be the Alice everyone thinks you should be, but you lost that innocence. You have known misery in this life, and it shows. You've been betrayed, and hurt, and you _feel_, that is nothing to be ashamed of." A hand snaked out to cover hers, locked into a fist in her lap.

Alice longed to hide. She felt as if another word might bring her apart.

"Alice-mine," he whispered "is it wicked of me to say that I prefer this version?"

Alice caught her breath. She blinked, and the hated tears rolled out, dripping off her cheeks to land on her bodice. She turned her head to look at the Hatter, and he smiled gently, his thumb easing into her palm to loosen her fist.

"No," Alice answered shakily. "But...how do you _know_ I'm her? Really? I don't see what you see."

He took a long moment to answer, his fingers entwining with hers. He tilted his head back, and squinted up at the sky, and Alice felt her heart skip at the expression of peace on his usually animated face.

"I know because I cared...oh..so much for her," Tarrant finally murmured, and then he looked back at her. "I thought I'd never be whole again after she left, but I would be a liar if I said I did not feel the same elation when I look at you."

Alice studied him as countenance bcame still, solemn. His large green eyes watched her steadily from beneath his thick white lashes and wicked brows, his heart-shaped lips slightly turned down at the corners. She thought he was was so beautiful it hurt. That was when she realized.

"You feel the same...but you aren't happy about it."

He shook his head. Looking suddenly distracted, Tarrant dropped her hand and stood. He took his waistcoat and jacket in hand and bent to kiss the top of her head before he took up his sword and stepped away from the table. Adjusting his hat, and laying his sword across one shoulder, he turned away toward the castle, and then paused.

"I confess I do not know what to do with my feelings, Alice. My will is weak where you are concerned." He turned back a little, to look at her with a slight, uncertain frown.

"I've always been your friend, but on your last visit, I felt something different. I wasn't certain what it was, but when you left, it hurt so much I went into the forest and sat, and thought, and didn't move until I figured it out. The recognition was bittersweet, as you were gone, and I didn't know if you'd ever be back. I didn't know if you'd even remember me."

Alice's heart dropped.

"You're right before me, but you still feel so far away, Alice." Tarrant glanced away and looked at the ground beneath his boots as if thinking of something else to say. He eventually sighed, frustrated, and muttered a hasty, "Fairfarren," before striding off.

Alice sat rigidily, staring sightlessly after him as hot tears began to spill. She could understand his reluctance now. It wasn't just that he was afraid of her leaving again - it was that she still couldn't remember him.

She'd done everything but tell him she loved him, but it seemed it wouldn't matter unless she regained her memories...unless she could tell him why she felt like she did. How could he accept her love otherwise? How could he believe she truly wouldn't leave?

Alice stayed at the table for the longest time, trying her hardest to remember something, anything, but to no avail.

"How could I forget?" Alice whispered, but she received no answer.

Later that evening, when the sky was red and violet, Mirana invited Alice to tour the stables. Alice went along only because she thought that perhaps spending more time walking the grounds would help to jog her memories - and to distract the Queen from asking her why her eyes were so red.

Mirana introduced her great white stallion to Alice, who got quite the shock when the horse looked her in the eye, knelt on one foreleg, and spoke - _spoke_ - to her.

Alice wasn't sure why she was so surprised - even the flowers and the trees in the gardens spoke around here.

Chessur popped up at the end of the tour, (or rather, his dusty pawprints did) and tagged along as Mirana picked her way along a path to the rear of the stables. Alice automatically followed, intrigued as always as the subject somehow turned to the Hatter.

"Oh, yes. He doesn't do the Futterwhacken often, but I do worry that one day his head will go rolling," Mirana was saying thoughtfully, and then she shrugged, smiling. "He does tend to get rather...vigorous."

_Vigorous? _Alice was barely aware of the "WTF?" look on her face before she shook it off. "What's a Futterwhacken?" _'Sounds kinda' dirty, and fascinating - and am I _**supposed**_ to be jealous...?'_

"Hmm?" Mirana paused to prune a rose tree branch before she continued on. "Oh, _The_ Futterwhacken, dearest. It's a local folk dance, I suppose one would say. Tarrant has always been quite good at it."

"He's gotten _requests_," Chessur's head popped in and added with a slightly mocking smile, leading Alice to wonder if she should be impressed by the knowledge or not.

Lifting her eyebrows in acknowledgement of the feat, Alice smiled and nodded, cleared her throat. "Cool."

Chessur's intimidating grin grew wider at her response, and Alice quickly looked away.

"Perhaps he'll _indulge_ you one day," Chessur continued slyly, his head still the only part visible as he trotted alongside.

Alice felt her tummy muscles tighten. Since when did common words become so suggestive?

"Ah! We're here at last!" Mirana announced, and Alice looked up from the path to see they were standing front of a huge dark hole set into the side of a small grassy hill. Her eyebrows jumped up her forehead as she heard something move from within. A deep, loud huffing noise came from the shadows, and then the scrape of a claw, the dragging of a heavy tail...

Alice stopped in her tracks and stared at the slavering, grinning beast in front of her.

"What the _fu_ - utterwhacken...?"

Chessur disappeared and reappeared complete in the air next to Alice. He snorted into his paw next to her, and the queen bit her her dark lips before she composed herself and held out a hand to the furry, slobbering creature. "This is the Bandersnatch, Alice. You don't recall him?"

Alice looked on in disbelief as the queen allowed the massive, mishapen beast to lurch forward and sniff her tiny hand, then as he offered up his huge shaggy head for a pat. "Erm, not right-off, sorry." Alice caught a whiff of the reeking thing and put a hand over her nose. How could she ever forget _that_ smell? What had they been feeding the poor guy?

"Um...is it your pet?" If so, it needed about half-a-ton of woolite and a firehose...

Mirana laughed lightly, and caught Alice's hand, pulling her forward to stand directly before the huffing beast. "No, Alice. He's _yours_!"

Stumbling, Alice caught herself, and stared up at the montrous-looking creature. His enormous round eyes blinked, and his nostils flared as he huffed. He reminded her of those poor little smushed-faced dogs that never seemed to be able to breathe properly. Black lips spread to reveal rows of sharp teeth in a frightening parody of a smile.

"Oh, he _does_ seem to like you, Alice," Chess purred from a safe distance.

Alice watched a stream of frothy saliva drip from the Bandersnatch's jaws, and smiled tentatively as she realized it was attempting to greet her. She lifted a shaking hand and waved a little, wondering if she could get away with baby-talking to him like she had her fat orange cat, Ramen.

"Erm...uh, h-hi, Big-boy! Who's a big boy, eh? Aw, what a _good_ boy! Who's a big, _sweet_ boy?"

The furry, striped beast snorted excitedly, rolled over and back, and released a blast of hot, stinky air into her face - and then licked her cheek with a very long, very sticky tongue.

Alice stayed very still as the slime dripped off her cheek.

Mirana made a face, and Chessur floated off, rolling into nothing before he dared cackle with glee.

Alice, grimacing, automatically patted the giddy Bandersnatch, all the while wondering if it would be considered a national crime to yack in front of the Queen...

After a hot bath, Alice donned her nightgown, white slippers, and a long robe, intent on sitting in her chair and forcing herself to remember everything she could. She sat for what seemed like hours, but all she ended up with was frustration and an annoying headache.

Jumping up, Alice tied her robe closed, and stalked to the doors of her room. She stuck her head outside the doors and looked around, and then gently closed them behind her and and wandered off down the hall. Before she even noticed, she passed the Hatter's rooms and paused, unsure. She stood still and listened, but there was no sound, and no light showing beneath the doors.

Alice reached out and touched the door, running trembling fingertips over the gleaming wood, then sighed and moved away, walking on until she came to a place where the hallway ceiling soared sharply, arching so high it made her dizzy and walk in circles staring up at it. Past the arches the walls gave way to the outdoors and a long, wide terrace.

Walking out onto the paved terrace, Alice completely forgot her headache. She couldn't help but look up into the night sky, dazed by its seeming nearness and beauty. When she got to the curved end of the terrace, she leaned against the carved stone railing, admiring the incredibly huge statue of a knight chess-piece next to her, and then she made the mistake of looking down.

"Oh, my God," Alice gasped, falling back a little and digging her fingers into the stone. She'd never realized how high up she'd been. It was like standing on a mountain and looking down into a valley below. The picture-perfect gardens below looked like an elegant patchwork quilt.

Heart pounding against her ribs, Alice stepped back up to the railing and cautiously looked out. There _were_ mountains in the distance, dim against the stars, and the tallest waterfalls she'd ever seen falling, running like watercolors into a great, shallow pool below. Heavenly scents drifted upwards on strong winds from the gardens, and Alice pinched herself to make certain she wasn't just dreaming.

Overcome by the surrealness of it all, Alice got lost in Underland's pure beauty, missing the faint footfalls on the stone behind her.

"You're crying," came a faint, lisping whisper behind her ear.

Alice started a little, automatically lifting a hand to her cheeks, which were indeed, wet. She turned from the grand spectacle before her and came nose to nose with the Hatter.

"Oh!" Alice gasped again, and stepped back, but his hands came out to grab her, and he curled his long fingers around her shoulders.

Alice swallowed, and blinked in the dimness, looking up into his eyes. They were half-mast, his lashes standing out against the darkness. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, or what kind of mood he was in, his face hidden by his hat brim and shadows.

Breath coming fast, Alice swallowed again, her pulse hammering. She could just make out the shape of his lips, and suddenly wanted to feel them against hers more than she'd ever wanted anything in the world. She'd never known that feeling, the sensation of want so strong it hurt; she'd never wanted anyone to kiss her before, and remembering the fast brush of his lips over hers in her room nights before made her ache.

"Hatter - " Alice began on a shaky breath, only to hush herself when his fingers tightened. She could feel their warmth through the linen of her gown, and her knees went weak. One hand lifted, almost hesitantly, and the backs of his fingers brushed over her cheek, gently, oh-so-softly, but the action sent her breath rushing from her lungs as if she'd been hit.

Eyes drifting shut, Alice struggled to breathe, subconsciouly leaning towards him, savoring the closeness, the intimacy of his touch. She felt as if she was floating, lost to the starry night sky. Her lips parted, her head falling back instinctively...

"_Alice." _Her name came on a soft hiss of warm breath that touched her chin, and unable to stop herself, Alice answered by stretching up on her toes and trying to reach his lips. She missed by a long shot, and her open lips landed on the underside of his jawline.

Embarrassed, Alice came back to herself and attempted to draw back, but to her shock, his hand came up to the back of her head, and he gently but firmly used a fist in her hair to push her lips back against his warm, textured skin.

Feeling faint from the sensations teasing and torturing her, Alice opened her lips against the firm underside of his jaw, then lower, against the skin of his neck. When she felt the swiftness of his own pulse, she felt a tiny measure of power and pride, and dared to open her lips wider, smiling when his heartbeat leapt, and a low, quiet groan issued from above her head. Shaking, Alice sighed, and closed her eyes, allowing her lips to drift, pushing his long, heavy hair aside until she found the hollow beneath his ear. His head tilted towards hers, and Alice gave the salty skin there a tentative lick with the tip of her tongue. She didn't mean to - she just couldn't help herself.

Tarrant's hand tightened in her hair, the muscles in his neck turning to steel.

Alice brought up her hands, one to lean on against his firm chest, the other to loosen the cloth tied around his neck. She couldn't believe how forward she was being. She'd never touched anyone this way, never even thought about it.

Pulling the cravat loose, she let it slither slowly down between them until it fell to the ground. With his strong, pale neck bare, Alice turned her head and licked his taut throat the same way she had the skin beneath his ear. _'Just the faintest, tiniest taste', _she thought to herself, allowing only the very tip of her tongue to make contact with his skin. _'Oh, please...' _She felt his adam's apple move up and down, stroking her lips, and smiled against it, but didn't know why -

The hand in her hair pulled her head back, and Alice quickly closed her eyes, too embarrassed to look at him. A hard, lean male cheek pressed against hers, and hot quick breaths puffed against her ear, making her feel light-headed. She felt his hands drop to her back, lower, until he held her hips in his palms, squeezing the layers of thin fabric into desperate handfuls. He stepped forward, and Alice stepped back, feeling the waist-high railing bump against her until he suddenly lifted her to sit on it, making her squeak. Her hands flew up to encircle his neck, afraid she might fall, but he let out a deep, quiet chuckle against her neck that made her boneless again.

"Relax, lass, I'll nay let ye fall," he all but purred in her ear, and Alice felt more tears slide down her cheeks as her love for him flooded her heart. She lowered her trembling hands to fist in his jacket lapels as he slowly lowered her back over his arm, and opened her eyes to see him looking down at her with a smirk, his hat tilted rakishly, the salmon pink sash blowing in the wind, his eyes full of fire and possessiveness.

"The colors of Underland suit ye, lass," he whispered to her, his eyes studying her and the paradise framing her with an intensity that gave her an almost painful thrill.

She shifted carefully, looking up at him with with a question in her own eyes she wasn't even conscious of asking. "Don't let me go," she told him breathlessly, feeling her long hair swinging in the night air. "_Ever_. I know I can't remember everything, and that upsets you, but I _never_ forgot how I feel about you."

Tarrant blinked, and he used his free hand to tip the hat carelessly from atop his head. Alice barely heard it hit the terrace floor and roll away as he put his hand on the railing and leaned over her, his face lining up with hers.

"I cannae' let ye go, Alice," he told her with a hopeless, painful honesty, his hair blowing back from his face as he shrugged. "After all that's been, I am yours, an' yours alone."

Another fat tear rolled down Alice's cheek, and fell into the open air below. "I wish I could go back and keep her from leaving you, I swear. I can't stand to see you unhappy."

Tarrant watched her gravely, and then lowered his lips to the tear trail on her skin. Alice was so affected she felt her heart in her throat...then it almost erupted when he traced the soft skin of her cheek down to her lips and at long last carefully, fully, kissed her.

Alice went completely limp, a hairsbreadth from fainting and falling, but she was so far from caring. His lips pressed against hers, once, twice, re-angled and met her slightly open ones with a moist heat that clung, and then parted. His mouth opened over hers, carefully, tenderly, and his tongue had barely skimmed past her lips and touched her own when she whimpered in her throat and tried to pull him closer. Obliging her, he pressed deeper, his lithe tongue curling around hers in such a way that something deep inside her felt impossibly tightened, and suddenly she exploded, the overload of sensation leaving her weak from sheer bliss.

Helpless, Alice barely noticed when the Hatter's lips withdrew from hers, and he picked her up from the stone railing and lowered them both to sit, his back against the baulstrades, her still form in his lap, head on his shoulder, knees on either side of his. The night air and flagstones were cold on her legs, exposed by her tangled gown hem and robe, but she wasn't bothered. All she could do was lie bonelessly against him, and smile weakly when he took her hand in one of his and tenderly kissed the back of it before holding it against his thundering heart.

Alice wasn't innocent enough to not know what she'd just felt - she'd always read like a demon, after all - but reading about and experiencing were two different things, and experiencing _that_ from a kiss, well, even she knew it was unique.

A strange bird call came from the darkness, beautiful, but unfamiliar to Alice's ears. She was absently imagining what the bird looked like when Tarrant's nose nudged her ear through her hair, and he said quietly, "You're gettin' chilled, lass - ye should go inside."

Alice groaned, shivering from the timbre of his voice, and snuggled closer. "Don't you dare make me move from this spot - not even the breath of the Bandersnatch could move me_."_

Tarrant chuckled warmly, and Alice could have died of contentment.

_'See, I told you you were an idiot,' _she said to the Other Alice, who didn't answer, and wisely so.

"I don't want you becoming ill," Tarrant told her sternly a few minutes later, and Alice sighed.

"Why don't you just admit that you can't trust yourself around me right now?" she teased without opening her eyes, and gasped when he set his warm palms against the cold backs of her thighs.

"I don't," he answered honestly, and gave her legs a very serious squeeze.

Alice nearly swallowed her tongue. Her eyes flew open, and she sat upright in his lap, her inner thighs hugging his waist. She looked into his eyes to see if he was serious, and when she saw and inadvertently _felt_ that he most definitely was, she cleared her throat and straightened her back, crossing her arms over chest.

"You, um...you want - "

"Yes, Alice. I _want_," he practically growled, pushing his hips against hers.

Alice was scared-to-death, but God, did she want, too. "Fine. I'll go inside," she half-panted as she dropped her arms and shamlessly pressed her chest against his. "But you have to promise you won't leave me alone."

Tarrant kissed her hard, making her head reel, but then fell back and gently pushed her off his lap. He took a moment to compose himself, kneeling, and unbuttoning his collar, then rose, offering her a hand up.

Alice took it, standing on unsteady legs, and stood watching him warily. He let go of her hand and turned, pacing up and down the terrace, looking unbelievably sexy in his rumpled dark suit and half-open shirt. His boot heels clicked on the stones, and his bright hair tumbled around his thoughtful, frowning face as he apparently pondered some grave action or decision. He pulled a strip of ribbon from a pocket and began twirling it through his clever fingers, to and fro, curling and un-curling.

Alice pushed her mussed hair out of her hot face and bit her lip. Was this where he told her off, let her down gently, sent her along her merry way because he had lost his head - _so to speak _- and felt guilty? How humiliating.

The silence grew so long that finally Alice had to speak.

"Tarrant?"

Nothing.

"Hatter? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pressure you - "

Tarrant stopped a few yards from her and looked up at her blankly, as if he'd forgotten she was there until she spoke. The longer he looked at her, the brighter his eyes seemed to glow - until Alice knew they really were. If they hadn't been, she would never have been able to see them from this distance.

Alice dampened her lips nervously at the sight of the orange glow. His eyes weren't red, not yet, but she couldn't tell if the dark charcoal circles were infringing or not. Either way, the orange wasn't a safe sign. For a moment she'd completely forgotten her Hatter was mad.

_Quite_ mad...

_To be continued_


	10. Chapter 10

**Strange Asylum**

_Chapter Ten: _Perfectly Mad

Alice forced herself to stay still as she and the Hatter stared at each other across the terrace. Perhaps if she stayed quiet, and didn't move around a lot...

He took a step toward her.

Alice tried not to pay attention to the natural chemical racing through her veins that was screaming at her to run. She'd never had to run from him before, and there was no reason to do so now. Instead of overreacting, she remained where she was, and took deep breaths to stay calm.

Tarrant's head slowly inclined toward her in the dark, his face chillingly impassive even as his eyes burned like coals. Raw emotion was rolling off him in waves, and she could feel it.

"_Do you knae what I want tae do tae ye, Alice?"_

His voice was so quiet she could barely hear it. Alice sighed shakily. "I know."

Tarrant took another step toward her, his face bewildered. "Then why in th'bluidy hell aren't ye runnin, lass?"

Alice shook her head, her nails curling into her palms. "Don't get me wrong, I'm insecure as all get-out right now - but I want to be close to you a lot more than I want to run away."

Tarrant gaped at her.

"Stop looking at me that way," Alice said defensively. "There's nothing wrong with me... wanting you."

"Alice..."

"You make me nervous," Alice hurriedly confessed before he could say more. She wanted him to understand just how much she wanted this...wanted _him_. She turned her head away, and hid behind her hair, knotting her hands together behind her lower back. "One thing my mom always told me was that when a cute guy makes you nervous, that means you really like him."

The Hatter took a deep breath, but didn't say anything.

"Since I already really liked you, I figure it must mean I love you."

When he still didn't say anything, Alice stumbled on. "I know I'm not your innocent, perfect old Alice. I know I'm damaged goods, but...I do like you. I like spending time with you. I feel like a normal girl around you. You make me want normal things. I think I could be that with you."

"So? What do you think?" Alice turned back, shaking her hair out of her face - and felt her tentative smile disappear when she saw that Tarrant had apparently done the same.

He had vanished.

**Alice** finally found Mirana in the throne room when she found the courage to walk back inside the castle from the terrace. She came looking for her because she was afraid to be alone just then.

Mirana was seated on the edge of her throne, the brilliant room dim with night, and Alice was surprised to see the Queen looking almost as lonely as she felt.

Mirana glanced up to see her, and immediately held out her hand. "Alice? Whatever are you doing up?"

Alice felt her face crumple as she ran across the room. She fell on her knees next to the Queen and buried her face in her full, immaculate skirts.

"It's Tarrant. I - we were on this beautiful terrace, it was like a dream or something, and he kissed me, but I think he regretted it."

"Tarrant? _Kissed_ you?" Mirana repeated disbelievingly, smoothing the hair on Alice's head.

"Yes. I told him I loved him."

"Oh, Alice, that's wonderful!"

Alice lifted her head and looked up at the beaming Mirana dismally. "It _was_...until he didn't say anything."

Mirana's smile slipped. "Oh, no."

"I told him I knew I wasn't perfect. That I knew I was damaged, but that he had to stop seeing me as the innocent, perfect old Alice."

Mirana leaned forward on her throne, seemingly captivated, her dark eyes wide. "What did he say?"

"I...well, he kind of didn't say anything."

Mirana arched a brow.

"Well, he kind of...left," Alice muttered, and buried her face in Mirana's pristine skirts again. "What did I do?" she wailed. "Do you think he hates me now?"

Mirana stroked the back of Alice's head, and sighed. "Never. And trust me Alice when I say trying to be perfect...will only make you mad."

**He** was sitting on his heels against the wall, when Mirana went to his dark rooms, his back leaning against it, hands loosely clasped in his lap. He was minus his coat, vest, cravat and hat, and his shirt was open to his waist, his pale skin gleaming in the moonlight streaming through the window. His head was resting back against the wall too, his large, red-rimmed eyes staring up at the ceiling.

"Tarrant, darling..." Mirana said sweetly, and he looked at her without moving his head, acknowledging her before looking backing at the ceiling again.

"Tarrant," she began again, her voice slowly building in volume, "would you mind very much telling me _what the hell you think you are doing to my poor Alice?"_

The Hatter dropped his chin to stare at her, completely agog. The Queen had never raised her voice to him before - nor had she cursed. _Ever_.

Mirana even seemed surprised by her outburst. "_Ahem_. Forgive me, I'm sorry. But I have had a nearly hysterical girl crying in my lap for the last hour. What have you done?"

"She wants to be normal now. I can't be normal. I don't even _know_ what normal is," Tarrant lisped quietly.

"She wants to be with you, you silly fool," Mirana chided, more gently this time. "She knows what normal is - for _her_. Don't you see, Tarrant, she is finally _healing_. She is ready for more than just friendship with you. Alice loves you."

Tarrant closed his eyes. "She said I was 'cute'."

Mirana stifled a delighted giggle. Truthfully, she often thought the same, but she would never dare to speak it.

"What if she changes her mind? I don't think I can stand her leaving again."

"_She won't."_

"What if I'm not enough? I can never give her children, Mirana, you know that. It would be difficult for us to even be...intimate. Perhaps even dangerous." Tarrant swallowed, his distress obvious. "What if I can't give her what she wants?" he whispered, his voice heavy with aching doubt.

"The only thing she wants from you is your _heart_. Yet here you sit, you stubborn old Scot, breaking hers instead of doing something about it."

Tarrant set his jaw, setting his palms flat on the tops of his thighs. The rings around his eyes grew dark, and his eyes opened to narrow on her.

"Don't glare at _me_, Tarrant Hightopp," Mirana warned sharply. "I tell you, if you must be angry at someone, be angry at yourself!"

Tarrant slowly pushed himself up against the wall and stood, his green eyes becoming fierce. Mirana had to admit he made quite a sight, bare-chested, lean and tall, his lengthened, curly red hair windswept around his shoulders outlined in the moonlight.

Putting his hands on his hips, Tarrant sneered a little. "An' I tell ye, yer _highness_, there's guid reason ah'm called mad!"

"You are certainly mad if you think a beautiful young woman like Alice will wait forever for someone she thinks doesn't care for her. There _are_ other men in Underland, Tarrant," Mirana said slyly. She watched her words hit home, and then put her fingers to her curling dark lips when Tarrant suddenly left the room without a word, the sound of his boots picking up a rapid pace as he swiftly disappeared down the hall.

**Alice** was lost in a wet haze of misery and tears in the pillows of her bed when the doors were suddenly thrown open hard enough to slam into the walls on either side and crack the plaster.

She sat up instantly, fingers clenching a certain precious hankerchief in her fist, eyes wide in surprise.

Tarrant stood there in the dark, half-dressed and practically growling. "There are _nae_ other men in Underland!" he snarled angrily, his eyes glowing.

Alice stared at his bared chest and had to swallow before she could attempt to respond. Her tongue didn't want to move. "Why would I want another man?" she asked, confused and sniffling. Her nose was stuffy from crying, and she sounded about four-years-old.

Tarrant's passionate expression slowly changed, and he cautiously approached her, coming to sit gingerly on the edge of her bed.

Alice held the turquoise handkerchief to her nose and looked at him doubtfully. "Are you okay?"

Tarrant closed his eyes as the last of the fury and tension left him. "Ah, lass. Only you would ask after the feelin's of the mon who hurt ye."

Alice blinked.

Tarrant sighed, and leaned into her, resting his forehead tentatively on her shoulder. "I am sae tired, Alice-mine."

Alice's breath hitched, and then she lay down the handkerchief and lifted her hands to hold his head. "Then stay with me," she whispered pleadingly, her fingertips massaging his scalp. "Stay here, and sleep - we can talk later."

"I...shouldnae," he mumbled, but his head was already growing heavy on her shoulder. "I've behaved in a most dreadful manner."

Alice rested her head against his and rubbed her temple against his lean cheek. "Just lay beside me and rest your head, my sweet friend."

Tarrant mumbled something else, and Alice took a deep breath of his warm skin, his hair, before scooting over on the bed and easing him down onto a pillow. He settled in, his breaths already coming deep, soft and regular, and Alice took a moment to enjoy the thrill of him in her bed before she made her own weary self move. She unlaced his boots, grinning at the sight of his mismatched socks, and set them on the floor with care. She tugged the sheets out from under him with effort, and at last settled into the bed with a groan of relief.

Alice pulled the covers over the both of them as she dropped her head gratefully onto her own pillow. She was exhausted, but she couldn't bring herself to pass up the opportunity to watch him rest next to her, to sleep so deeply. She turned toward him, curling a lock of his hair around one finger as she looked at his pale profile in the darkness.

Alice cuddled her cheek deeper into her pillow. He looked peaceful at last, and she smiled, continuing to admire him until she fell asleep without even realizing it.

_To be Continued_


	11. Chapter 11

**Strange Asylum**

_A/N: Only one chapter left! I'll update as soon as I can, so please be patient. I appreciate your interest more than I can say. Thank you! Also, a new Alice/Hatter fic will be up soon, too._

**Chapter Eleven: **The Handfasting Hilarity

Anxiety and doubt, those things were the first to torment her when Alice woke up the next morning.

In every romantic story she had ever read, when the hero and heroine ended up in bed together, they always woke up facing each other, or better yet, in each other's arms. Alice had always taken it as a sign the couple was meant to be.

When Alice opened her eyes, she was turned away from the Hatter, lying on the edge of the bed - he was snoring quite obnoxiously, the poor dear, and Alice had stolen all the blankets.

Alice had to close her eyes and give an internal laugh. She was living a fairytale, but she was too cynical and selfish to be the princess, and instead of the apple, the prince was poisoned.

Alice shifted gingerly on the bed, thankful for its sturdiness as she sat up and stood. The mattress and frame didn't make a sound.

Moving silently in the light of dawn, Alice walked around the bed, and looked down at the sleeping Hatter. He looked content despite the snoring, and she smirked a little at the odd noises reaching her ears. He even snored eccentrically.

Sighing, Alice stood watching him with a thumbnail caught between her teeth for the longest time. It wasn't until he moved that she did, and as he opened his eyes, she perched on the edge of the bed beside him, careful not to startle him.

"Did you sleep well?" Alice whispered.

Tarrant watched her calmly. "My lady. I dreamt of silk worms." He gave a seemingly uncontrollable hoot of laughter, and then shook his head to calm himself.

Alice blinked. "Is that good?"

"Oh, indeed," he lisped happily, his eyes soft. "They wove champagne silk all through the night - yards upon yards of it - and it looked just like your hair, Alice."

Flattered, and surprised, Alice gave a small, incredulous laugh, and leaned down to kiss his cheek. "You're very kind."

"Not always," he whispered uncertainly, eyes downcast, thick white lashes dusting his cheeks. "Those with my...affliction have never been accused of being overly kind."

"Then you're different," Alice told him, refusing to let him go running off again. She wouldn't insult him by dismissing his madness, but she also wouldn't let him use it as an excuse.

"You are my best friend and I love you, and I couldn't possibly fall in love with a man who wasn't kind."

Lifting his eyes to hers again, Tarrant smiled, the lazy drifting of his pupil and the gap in his teeth making her feel hopeful and light-hearted.

"Do you really love me, then, Alice?"

Alice nodded, unable to hide her smile. She took his hand in hers and twined their fingers together. "No man I've ever known has treated me like you do. Like I should be cared for and protected. When you talk to me, you're honest, and you say what you think. You don't try to hide things. Your smiles make me feel like everything is going to be alright. I'm happy when you're around. I want to be with you forever."

Tarrant dropped his head over their joined hands. He lifted his other hand to cover them, and then hesitated, his palm drifting just above. "Forever is a verra' long time, here, Alice."

"I like it here, Tarrant. I've always kind of lived in my own little world, anyway. At least here, people know me." Alice laughed a little, and closed the distance between the back of her hand and his palm. She lay her other hand atop it, and then lifted their joined hands to lay a kiss on the back of his - and that's when she noticed the long, elegant braid of rainbow ribbons suddenly knotted around their wrists. Confused, Alice lifted her eyes to his.

"Tarrant? Where'd this come from?"

Tarrant looked up at her solemnly, so intently that she suddenly felt incredibly shy. "I want to be with you forever, too, Alice, my darlin'. You are what makes me brave, what makes me content, you are my every hope, my only love, my one link to sanity, " the Hatter said, and then closed his eyes and kissed their bound hands as well.

Alice hadn't known such a feeling of pure joy was possible. Her lips parted on a gasp as the ribbon binding them began to glow, and then quickly dispersed into ropes of light that gathered into separate braided bracelets on each of their left wrists. The soft, thick rainbow of ribbons seemed impossibly seamless now, and a tiny, ornametal golden lock dangled from the center of each bracelet.

It was obvious something very special - maybe even sacred - had happened here. Alice caught the Hatter's eye with an incredulous look. She had seen many impossible things here in Underland, but this...?

**"A** Handfasting!" came a delighted cry from the doorway, and Alice and Tarrant looked over in unison to see the White Queen standing there with somewhat scheming dark eyes and a pleased, wide smile on her face. As they watched, she clapped her hands together and loudly cooed, _"How wonderful!"_

"How interesting that you just happened to be available to witness the Handfasting, your highness," Chessur said later over tea.

"The first in Underland since my parents own," Mirana commented with a blissful sigh. "It was quite legendary." She'd been smiling since that morning, and Alice, seated down from her, could only wonder if her flawless face was hurting yet.

"I _do_ wish you would allow me to plan a celebration ball, Alice," Mirana cajoled again. "It is tradition."

Alice smiled weakly, and felt Tarrant's hand carress hers under the table. "I don't mean to offend, truly, it's just...I'm not much of a party person, I'm sorry. Being around a lot of people makes me nervous."

"How unfortunate," Chessur hummed. "If only you could disappear at will like me."

Alice narrowed her eyes.

Mirana sighed, clearly disappointed, but she remained sympathetic. "I understand, dear." She took a sip of her tea and then brightened. "What if it was just a small gathering, only familiar faces? Just a little something to celebrate your moment of joy?" She held up her hand, her forefinger and thumb held just-so to show how little.

Alice couldn't help but relent. "Okay...I guess."

"Oh, joy! But be assured I shall only invite the closest of friends - the bloodhound and his family, the brothers, the hare, the white rabbit, the dormouse, the loyal families of Witz End, of course, oh, and - "

Alice's eyes almost crossed in an attempt to keep up. "O-okay, but, again, this _is_ just a sort of engagement, right?" Alice held up the wrist the bracelet had appeared on.

"Sort of," Chessur coughed.

Alice tensed up. Something funny was going on -

Tarrant shot the instigator a dirty look. "A Handfastin' _used_ to be a trial marriage - "

"Marriage!" Alice almost fell off her chair.

" - _or_ a marriage _for as long as love shall last_, at least," Chessur added cheekily, taking a loud sip of his tea with a curl of his tail.

"It is left up to the couple, at any rate," Mirana interjected severely. "But yours is quite rare, quite rare indeed. Almost completely unpremeditated. Only the truest of hearts can enter into a natural one such yours and Tarrant's. You'll notice the bracelets - they are an exclusive tradition of the Hightopp clan only - a token of affection, if you will."

"A symbol of _possession_," Chessur purred, the mischievous thing.

"A sign of unity," Tarrant growled protectively, his eyes flashing a rusty orange.

"Like a ring," Alice said numbly, weakly, unable to look at the Hatter. "Like a...wedding ring?"

**If** Alice hadn't been affected by the surrealness of Underland before, the knowledge that she was as well as married to the White Queen's Royal Hatter surely brought it home.

Feeling the bracelet with her fingers, Alice sat alone upon her swing in the little autumn clearing and stared at it. The rainbow of ribbons were each woven with a specific color in a plaid pattern, accented by a thick thread-of-gold. The tiny lock was embossed with a feathered top-hat. When she looked closely, it really was very extravagant and significant-looking.

Alice sighed and closed her eyes, leaning her head against the rope - the night before had gotten totally out of hand. It was her fault, admittedly. The thought of being instantly married, and knowing that it only could have happened if she had really wanted it to was, well, disconcerting to say the least.

A memory of the Hatter standing when she did at the tea table, asking for a little time alone, made warmth enfold her heart, and weaken her her knees. He hadn't looked surprised or saddened by her request, and had simply pulled out her chair for her and then laid his hand against her cheek with such heat and tenderness in his eyes that she hadn't been able to move for an instant. He'd bowed and kissed the backs of the fingers on her left hand, and stepped aside to let her go.

God, what if he let her go because he he wasn't sure about what had happened, either?

But no, it couldn't be that, since he'd wanted it to happen, too, or else it wouldn't have, right? The Queen _had_ said, "Only the truest of hearts."

So what the hell was she waiting for?

Standing, Alice brushed off the short, pleated blue skirt she wore, and straightened the matching, sleeveless, vest-like shirt and ruffled white tank under it. She ran a hand through her loose hair, and dislodged a few leaves before taking a steadying breath and walking out of the clearing.

Thinking too much had become her enemy, she decided fiercely. If all she did was sit alone and entertain her doubts, she end up destroying herself. She had the most intriguing man in _two_ worlds waiting on her, loving her, and there was no way she was going to make him prove it to her. There was no way she was going to give him up.

Feeling excited and energized, Alice found herself smiling so brightly it almost hurt, and suddenly she couldn't keep herself from running..._home_.

**To** be continued in the final chapter, _Chapter Twelve: Love is the Drug_


End file.
